The Hancock Initiative
by Bakkughan
Summary: When he was a drunk vigilante, the world didn't want him. Now a hero, the world doesn't need him. When S.H.I.E.L.D. makes him an offer to protect humanity in exchange for some answers, Hancock accepts. How will the Avengers deal with the strongest man alive? - Post Thor.
1. An offer you can't refuse

**AN:** Hello everyone, and welcome to my second story! First let me reassure you, my other story, Mutants of the Carribean, will still continue, hopefully with a regular updating schedule. It shall also be my priority while writing, so expect slower updates on this fic. That being said, I'm really exited to see where I can take this story, and I hope that by the end of this chapter you will be as well.

So before we start a couple of things should be established. First is powerlevels. Hancock is as strong as Thor and the Hulk, possibly a little bit stronger. However, the Hulk becomes stronger the angrier he gets, which means if Hancock can't put him down fast, the Hulk will eventually overpower him. Which brings us to the next part of the powerlevels. Durability. If you look on wikis or comicvine, you'll see that both Thor and Hulk possess near-invunerability. However, Hancock IS invurnerable. Simple as that. Unless somehow he and Mary are forced into close proximity to each other, NOTHING will put Hancock down. Not even putting Mjolnir on his chest. Hancock wasn't able to lift Mjolnir during his homeless, alcoholic vigilante period, but is capable of it now. Honestly I see no reason why he shouldn't. In terms of speed, Hancock is currently the fastest being alive, capable of outflying Iron Man.

Now the second part. Hancock has been in the McU all along. Which means that there is 80 years of history to explore, or in Mary's case, 3,000 years of history. I will not go into all of it, but he and Cap served in WW II together and are sort-of-buddies. Steve is somewhat too by the book for Hancock, while Hancock is sometimes to crass for Steve, but they know they got each-others backs. Hancock is also the only tangible thing Steve has left from, what for him is yesterday, but to the world is the better part of a century ago. I will definetely either make flashbacks to the war, or simply do a few chapters about the first Captain America movie.

As to what Hancock is. The director of the movie says that Hancock is supposed to be the reincarnation of Zeus (or something). That's why there's the whole theme with eagles. Hower, the Greek Pantheon is already represented in the comic verse. (Hercules and Thor are regular drinking buddies in fact.) So I'm just going to ignore that. I will however use the link between the Greek pantheon from myth and the McU established Asgardian realm and history.

Given that this AN has become ridiculously long, I'll shut up now and let you continue with the story. I'll see you guys at the bottom of the chapter for a quick note.

* * *

 **Chapter 1 – An offer you can't refuse**

John Hancock was many things. Most of those things should never be mentioned in the presence of ladies or children but nevertheless, John Hancock was many things. He was arguably the most powerful being on Earth. He was strong enough he could toss cars and trucks much like a normal man might toss darts. If said man were terribly drunk and had even worse aim, that is. He was so strong; he could throw a small annoying child with a girly French name into lower orbit. Hypothetically speaking, of course. He was currently the only being that could fly despite not having wings. Or a suit. Or a mystical hammer. The last few years had seen that Hancock wasn't the only thing in the air anymore, besides birds and planes. He was also the only being to have traveled to the moon on his own power. Granted, it got rather nippy in space, but the view was fantastic. He was also the envy of women everywhere, since he didn't age. In fact, if his ex-wife was to be believed, he had not aged a single day in over 3,000 years.

In short, John Hancock was….

Bored.

So utterly, totally, mind-numbingly bored.

After cleaning up his act and taking the responsibility that came with his powers seriously, John Hancock soon found himself with not much to do. Whenever there was criminal activity, John would be there in minutes. Who knew inadvertently causing millions of property damage could slow you down so much? The result was that within the week, major crime in L.A. had all but vanished. Sure, petty crimes still occurred, it was a large city after all with millions of people, and while John was many things, there were not many John's. But things such as heists, dangerous car chases or just an idiot with too little intelligence and way too much firepower were no longer a concern for the citizens of Los Angeles.

After ridding L.A. from organized crime, John looked beyond the limits of his city and started a crusade of fighting crime across the globe. During this crusade the world saw the rise of others like Hancock. Unusual people, who were capable of doing what others could only dream of. The most prominent of these was Tony Stark, the billionaire previously known as The Merchant of Death, who had become the Iron Man. Together, they had pretty much ended war in the Middle-East after Stark decided that he was _not_ okay with terrorists using the weapons that he had built.

Then, about a half year after that, the world saw the return of the Hulk to the spot light, who battled what the media had called the Abomination. The conflict between the two behemoths had broken Harlem, a feat previously thought only Hancock to be capable of. John knew of the Hulk, since the U.S. Army had hounded him for several years now to assist in putting down the rage monster. John's reply had been… less than polite. It was their mess after all, so they could take care of it on their own.

Then, three years after he had started his campaign, had come something that hadn't shocked the world since 80 years ago, when an amnesiac man took to the skies. Because this time, something _descended_ from the skies. An actual god. Granted, the god was stripped from his powers, but nevertheless a god had come to earth. The religious debates that had followed reminded John of when the world learned about him. There was a mass hysteria going on, with everybody pointing fingers at just about everyone else for creating a living weapon. Religious factions almost started a global holy war not seen since the Crusades but on a much more destructive scale. The world almost went completely down the drain, until the president at the time, Herbert Hoover, showed the world John's medical file, reports of eye witnesses, and a statement of John himself, in which he explained to the world that he had no idea who or what he was and begged someone, anyone, with any information to tell him. Nobody had answered.

However, learning that the Asgardians of myth were actually real and had visited Earth before had rekindled John's hope to learn what he and Mary actually were. Mary herself was also interested, since she didn't know who the people were that had created them. It could very well be the Asgardians who had enhanced regular humans. Or maybe they themselves were Asgardians, left behind after the Asgardian host had come to Earth the first time. This last theory had become really popular with the U.S. government, amongst others. Hancock had heard through the grapevine that there was an investigation going on to find out how to establish a connection with the Asgardian realm. Should a connection be found, two messages would be sent. The first one would be rather short and to the point: "we come in peace". Immediately following the first message the second, distinctively larger, message would be sent: the total amount of property damage Hancock had caused over the last 80 years, and if they would please be so kind to pay for it all? He was their mess after all, so they should pay for it.

After his crusade, which had lasted four years in total, Hancock returned to his city only to find that there really wasn't any need for him to be there. Together with Iron Man, war had been almost completely quelled. After his reform and subsequent crack-down on the criminal elements in the world, crime had dropped to an all-time low. Hancock tried to think of ways to use his powers to better the world, just like Ray had intended, battling poverty or world hunger or something. But Ray had already taken care of it, it seemed. With Hancock behind his project, Ray had managed to get government funding, not just from the U.S. but from the EU and Asia as well. Now All-Heart was not just simply a brand, but one of the largest corporations in the world. Ray was steadily making sure that poverty and hunger were things from the past.

While John was happy for his friend, he himself felt somewhat lost. When he had been a vigilante the world didn't want him. Now as a hero, they didn't need him. So John decided that he would leave L.A. It wasn't as if he couldn't get there in minutes if he really pushed himself anyway. He left for New York. Somehow, over the last few years, the Big Apple had been a hot spot for the unusual. And while Hancock was many things, one of the most obvious and most agreed about, was that he was _very_ unusual.

* * *

Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., regarded the tall figure standing on the ledge of the Chrysler Building as he quietly walked towards him. His military boots didn't make a sound as they hit the roof, and his leather cloak shifted around him without making any noise. Despite that, Nick knew, the man was already aware of his approach. He didn't think there was anyone outside of the Black Widow who had a chance of sneaking up on this man and even she would need a healthy dose of luck on her side.

Having reached the man, Nick wordlessly joined him on the edge of the building. He had no fear of heights and he was confident in himself that he at least had the physical and mental capabilities to stand upright. Looking out over the sprawling lights that made up New York, Nick had to admit the view was worth climbing all those damned stairs. Both he and his target remained silent as they overlooked the city that never sleeps, content to see which one of them would cave in first. After a few more minutes, in which Nick's ears and nose had become rather cold, though he would rather die than admit it to anyone, his target caved with an exasperated sigh. The man turned towards him, a confident smirk on his face.

"Well, it's been a long time since I've seen you Nick."

Inwardly smirking over his small victory over the immortal man next to him, Nick turned to face him.

"Likewise John."

S.H.I.E.L.D. knew of Hancock of course. Hell, there probably wasn't anyone on Earth who _didn't_ know about Hancock. But S.H.I.E.L.D. knew of him before S.H.I.E.L.D. itself even really existed.

When World War II broke out and the Nazi's revealed Hydra and their superior technology and armaments, the Allied forces were scrambling to come up with an answer. That answer was Hancock. An amnesiac that had woken up eight years before the war began and who could do things previously thought to be reserved for gods and the like. Despite the racism at the time, John Hancock was approved for service, strapped in military gear, pointed towards Berlin and told to wreck the place.

Which he did. Very effectively.

However, Hydra was not to be deterred. True, nothing could really stand up to the superhuman, but he could only attack one place at a time. The rest of the Allied forces were still regular humans and died just as easily as everybody else. And died they did, as Skull's cruelty and Zola's genius proved unmatched with the power of the Tesseract behind them. So for every base Hancock hit, Hydra would raze a town, or execute POW's or completely wipe a battalion of Allied forces of the map. The realization quickly came that just one heavy hitter was not enough, when Hydra had the superior technology and thus, the better army. The response was to create the better soldier, and Project: Rebirth was born. A project which would elevate humans to the level of Hancock, meaning that what they did with Hancock, they could do with their entire army.

The project delivered only a single super soldier, Captain America. While nowhere near Hancock's level, the man proved nearly as effective and a rallying point for the people and the soldiers alike, regardless of nationality. After the war ended, alongside Captain America, the Strategic Scientific Reserve, which had lead Project: Rebirth, formed S.H.I.E.L.D., lead by Director Carter. The Director, personal friends with both the superhuman and the super soldier, allowed Hancock to walk away from war and decreed that S.H.I.E.L.D. would never try to recruit him unless Hancock approached them first. A decision many had thought to be a mistake, Nick himself included, but one that he had always honored. But the one-eyed Director needed Hancock, no, _the world_ needed Hancock. S.H.I.E.L.D. had done what it could for close to 60 years, but they simply could not handle the threats Nick was sure would come. Hancock could.

Said godlike being looked him up and down a couple of times before scrutinizing his face. As Director of one of the most widespread and thorough spy agencies in the world, Nick knew some of Hancock more… destructive feats better than anyone else. Yet, despite being blatantly examined by a man who could break everything in his body by accident, Nick Fury didn't flinch or fidget like a lesser man would have. His single eye didn't even blink once, as Hancock finished his examination. Finally the superhuman spoke up.

"You haven't aged a day."

It wasn't entirely an accusation, but the question was there. It was warranted after all. The last time Hancock had seen the one-eyed Director must have been close to 30 years ago. Nick had taken a serum, similar to the one given to Captain America, but one who didn't have such blatant results. One of the results however, was that he aged slowly. Very slowly, in fact.

Allowing a cool smile to slide over his face Nick responded.

"Again, likewise John."

Hancock snorted in amusement and stared intently at the superspy, obviously waiting on an explanation. Seeing that Nick wouldn't give him one, the strongest man alive sighed and turned back to look out over the blinking city scape.

"What do you want Fury?"

Noting the change in the way he was addressed, Nick internally grimaced. He needed Hancock to join him willingly. Not because he had any problems with forcing the man, he would do anything to protect the human race. No, it was simply because Nick had absolutely no idea _how_ he could force a being like Hancock to do something he had no intention of doing. In all honesty, after hearing that Hancock, after counseling with the director of All-Heart, Ray Embrey, would turn himself in and serve his prison sentence, Nick was sorely tempted to track the man down and put him in a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. That man had one silver tongue to make John Hancock do something which he really, really didn't want to do.

"I want what is best for the world John. I always have and you know this as well as I do. S.H.I.E.L.D. has done what it could, but we need more. We need people like you John, if we want to keep people safe."

Hancock turned back to him, a frown on his face. Nick didn't care. He was listening, which meant he was interested, which meant Nick could sway him to his side.

"Safe? Read the news Nick. The world is safe. It has been safe since I completed my "crusade"."

"Is it? There are new threats now John and you know this. Threats like the Abomination. If the Hulk didn't cooperate when he did, it would have been more than just Harlem in pieces. Our only hope would have been _you_. Or what do you think of Stark's weapons? You both know that for all your power and his smarts, you can't have found them all. His latest weapon could erase _cities_ , John, and he could make them in a _cave_. None of my boys could do anything if one of those weapons goes off, but _you_ can. Or what of the Asgardians? Not just an individual with powers John, but an _entire race_. When they decide that tazing their crown prince is not something they are going to take and they take action, who is it going to be that humanity can put its trust in? In some shadowy organization they have only heard rumors of? Or in the superhero that has stood by them for as long as most of them have been alive?"

Nick paused to take a deep breath. He rarely talked for so long or with such intensity, but S.H.I.E.L.D. needed Hancock. The world needed what he had in mind. Dark things were coming, terrible things; Nick could feel it in his bones. And if humanity didn't stand prepared, it would be swept away. Hancock looked a little taken aback by the outburst of the usually stoic Director before furrowing his brow. Nick allowed himself the tiniest sliver of hope, maybe his impromptu speech had convinced him, maybe he could-

"Wait. We tazed the Asgardian crown prince?"

It took all of Nick's immense self-control to keep himself from face palming. All his face revealed was a slight twitch by his visible eye.

"Yes.", the Director ground out.

"Really?"

"Multiple times."

"But why?"

"Long story."

"Then give me the short version."

"There isn't one."

Nick's replies became terser with each sentence until he was almost growling. Hancock simply had a smirk on his face. Suddenly the superhuman turned serious.

"Why would I join you Nick? Even if the threats you think are coming, I can handle them just fine. Why would I let S.H.I.E.L.D. tell me what to do?"

Nick managed to keep the predatory grin of his face. Mostly. Hancock had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

"Because S.H.I.E.L.D. can help you. For all you strength and power, you have little knowledge of martial arts or hand-to-hand combat. We can help you with that. We also have detailed files on Asgardians. Probably the most detailed in the world right now. We might have the answers you have been looking for for more than 80 years John. We have the answers _Mary_ has been looking for for almost 3,000 years. S.H.I.E.L.D. can help you John. You just need to let us."

Hancock looked torn. It was obvious that the possibilities of answers, of finally knowing where he and his wife came from were agonizingly temping to the immortal amnesiac. Seeing he almost had this in the bag, Nick showed his final trump card.

"We also might reconnect you with some of your old war buddies."

At this Hancock looked confused.

"The Commando's?"

He scoffed.

"Those that aren't dead are damn close to it by now. Didn't know you hired gramps to do your dirty work Nick. That's low, even for you."

Nick sent a chilling smile at the man, shutting him up.

"We are willing to hire you, aren't we?"

Hancock looked dumbfounded for a second, before chuckling.

"I actually meant someone else, other than the surviving commando's."

Hancock looked at him confusedly.

"Look Nick, I know that despite everything, people never stopped telling tall tales of my days during the war. But you of all people should now that the stories are just that. Stories. I never really hung out with anyone back then. Times were different then Nick. It was just me, the Commando's, Peggy and Stev-"

Hancock suddenly paused, looking disbelievingly at Nick, who allowed a satisfied smirk to grace his face.

"We found him John. After 70 years of searching, we found him."

He saw Hancock swallow before almost hesitantly asking his questions.

"How is he?"

"Confused. But other than that, as far as we can tell, not a day older than the day he went into the ice. There wasn't even any muscle deterioration."

"What? How?"

"I guess Erskine was even better than any of us thought."

Hancock turned back towards the city, although Nick was pretty sure he didn't really see any of it anymore, since the immortal was deep in thought. Silence descended on the rooftop as Nick patiently waited for Hancock's answer. He had pushed and prodded and played his cards. Now it was time to wait. And wait he did until the sun started rising above the horizon. As high up as they were, Nick silently admitted to himself that seeing the sun slowly bathe the city in light was an amazing sight. The serenity was shattered by a piercing cry coming from high above them. Looking up, Nick saw an enormous eagle flying in lazy circles, riding the warming air currents. Turning back towards Hancock, Nick saw that the immortal had a wistful smile on his face as he watched the majestic bird. Hancock turned back towards the Director and Nick knew that he had accomplished what he had come to do.

"You help me find out where I came from. You teach me how to fight. And when those threats that are making you so paranoid finally prove you right, you point me in the direction you need me to go."

Nick opened his mouth, but before he could speak Hancock interrupted him.

"Let's get this straight right now Nick. I'm not going to be one of your S.H.I.E.L.D. flunkies. I'm going to help you save the human race, but I'm not some agent you can order around on shadowy missions. We cool?"

Nick merely smiled. The World Security Council would probably have an aneurism and probably call for his head. Unfortunately for them, and extremely amusing to him, he now had John Hancock on his side. Which meant that, whatever objections those old crones could have, his head would remain firmly on his shoulders. He gave a nod.

"Yes. We cool."

Hancock nodded, before giving a grin.

"So where's Steve now?"

"Probably helping some training equipment into the afterlife."

Hancock laughed.

"Seems to me, he could do with an old friend."

Nick chuckled.

"Agreed. He's at one of the older safe houses in the sub-urbs, one of the mandatory installed by Director Carter. You probably remember which one I'm talking about."

Just because they were on a roof, didn't mean Nick would say secure locations out loud. It was the same principle that had lead to him training himself to not talk in his sleep.

Hancock grinned.

"Sure do. Nice seeing you Nick. I'll tell Steve you said hi."

The superhuman bend at the knees, powerful thighs bulging underneath his suit. Before Nick could react, or offer any form of protest, Hancock shot into the sky, a sonic boom following in his wake, and disappeared into the rising sun. Nick looked down at where Hancock stood mere seconds ago. A deep crater surrounded by spider cracks marred the pavement of the roof. Nick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Hill's gonna have my hide for this."

Looking up as he heard a second sonic boom and saw a small speck getting even smaller, Nick couldn't help but grin.

"But damn if it doesn't look cool."

* * *

 **AN:** And that's chapter one folks! I'm really sorry that this was rather exposition-heavy, but like I said, there's 80 years of history for Hancock, and I want him firmly grounded and established in the McU. Also sorry that this chapter was more Nick Fury than Hancock himself, but if I want to make this a good crossover I need to be able to tie the two franchises together in a way that makes sense. In this case it made sense that Nick Fury would try and recruit the most powerful being alive. Be prepared for some chapters in which other character such as Steve and Thor get the spotlight as well, when we either explore some of Hancock's backround, or if I lay some more groundwork to establish Hancock in the McU.

 **Fun Fact** **:** During the scene in which we see Hancock fly for the first time, he crashes into some birds and narrowly avoids collision with a plane. This is a wink towards the famous Superman expression: Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's... a flying drunk.


	2. Meeting an old friend

**AN:** Hello and welcome everyone to the second chapter of Hancock Initiative! In this chapter, Steve and John will be reunited after more than seventy years. As a result, this chapter will not really have a lot of action, though I have tried to stay as far as possible from angst. Also, this chapter is a fair bit shorter than the first chapter. In order to make it up to you readers, I have already started on the next chapter, so that should be out somewhere next week or the week after, depending on how much time my exams will swallow up. That chapter will jump back between Captain America: The First Avenger and The Avengers, so a lot of action to look forward to. And I just realized how often I just used the word chapter. Oops?

But first! The reunion between a god on earth and a supersoldier.

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Meeting old friends. Really old friends.**

As John Hancock soared through the air at supersonic speeds, the ground far below him turning into a blur, he couldn't help but grin widely. Even is his darkest days, flying had been a source of light to him. The sheer _freedom_ of blasting off into the sky, where there was only him and the occasional bird, was a feeling that was difficult to put into words. Of course, since the last few years, there was more in the skies than just birds, but that didn't diminish the sentiment. Each time he took off, there was a brief rush of adrenaline, an undeniable feeling of _excitement_ , running through his veins. Even after eighty years of casually doing what humans could only dream about, it was still as exhilarating as the first time he disobeyed the will of gravity.

Banking slightly to the left, the sub-urbs of New York sped into view. At the speed he was flying at, he reached them within seconds. Quickly slowing himself down, John fell to the ground.

Until four years ago, John would have simply let gravity take its hold over him again and crash down to the ground, trusting in his invulnerability to come out unharmed. While this method had never failed him, the people of L.A. had been less than pleased at their destroyed roads and pavements.

However, after deciding to become a hero, John had tried to cut back on his destructive entrances, instead trying to touch down _without_ the force required to shatter concrete. During the first couple of months after turning hero, this had been somewhat problematic, given John's enormous speeds when flying. The kinetic energy that build up during his flight was immense and had to go somewhere, and when he landed, that somewhere turned out to be the ground, leading to the various potholes that littered Los Angeles.

During those few months, John had made rather… undignified entrances. Usually this involved a lot of flaying about with his arms, trying to come to a slow before he smashed into the ground. Sometimes this didn't work and he still shattered the road, just with his head instead of his feet. One time a miscalculation saw him not slowing down, but instead speeding in the opposite direction, leaving a bewildered criminal looking confused at a rapidly disappearing Hancock.

Not really wanting to embarass himself any further, John decided that training was in order. However, since this training would be embarassing in and of itself, John searched for a remote trainingspot. Somewhere far away from anyone who might see it. Well, nobody would be watching, say, the moon, right? So a few weeks after going back to the moon, making use of the lower gravity there, John had managed something that was as awesome as it was… silly. He had managed to hover.

While this ability in itself was nothing impressive, it was extremely useful in _not_ completely ruining his entrance. Or the road. It also made for great intimidation, he found out to his surprise during his crusade. Simply crash down into the middle of a terrorist camp, nobody cared about the condition of their pavement anyway, sending people and equipment flying about. Then, slowly for dramatic effect, straighten up, and _float_ out of the crater you just made. Then hover slowly forward, all the while simply shrugging off bullets and the occasional rocket. From what John saw on newsreels and the like, it looked _awesome_.

However, seeing as he was visiting a friend living in the outskirts of New York, there was no need for awesome entrances, so, catching himself a few hundred feet above the ground, John slowly floated down, touching down on the road with barely any sound. Quickly scanning his surroundings, John saw that the streets were deserted for now. Not wanting to get caught in the open, and risk blowing the cover of the S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouse, John stalked forwards towards the nearest house. The house was completely unassuming, made of the same red brick that made up every single other house in the street. There was literally nothing that stood out about it, no decorations or anything that showed at the personality of the inhabitant. In short, it was as ordinary as houses came. Which made it the perfect cover for the extraordinary.

Stepping onto the porch, John pressed his finger to the doorbell. There was no sound of a bell ringing, but then again John didn't expect it to. A blue flash, barely visible under his finger, showed that his fingerprint had been scanned and that he was allowed inside. His super hearing picked up several automatic locks and seals slowly hissing open before the door suddenly swung out, almost hitting John in the nose. Quickly John stepped inside, the door automatically closing behind him, shrouding the hallway in darkness. Not that that was really problem for John, who could see equally well in both darkness and light.

After a few seconds, several TL-lights came to life, lighting the hallway in a cold white. Stalking through the hall, and ignoring the other rooms, John came at the door leading to the basement. He put his hand to the doorknob before pausing. John leaned in slowly, pressing his ear against the polished wood. Grunts and the sounds of flesh impacting something heavy in a rapid tempo drifted up the stairs. John grinned, barely managing to keep himself from chuckling, not wanting to alert the person in the basement.

' _Time to say hi.'_

With that thought in mind, John pushed the door open, and descended the stairs.

* * *

As his fist impacted the punching bag, causing it to shudder on its chain, Steve Rogers was deep in thought. It had been almost two weeks since he had woken up in the future. He had found it somewhat simpler to simply think of this time as the future. It was easier than accepting that he had travelled forwards into time instead of time simply passing him by. He simply couldn't wrap his head around that. Not yet.

Giving a final punch that would have crushed a man's ribcage without effort, Steve groaned in fustration as the bag couldn't take the abuse anymore and it broke free from its chain. Steve watched dispassionately as the heavy bag sailed across the room, only to smack into the far wall. It slid down the surface to join a pile of its brethren, all having endured the same fate as the newcomer.

Steve sighed. Even after almost half a decade of almost non-stop battles and fighting in the most brutal war in the history of mankind, he still wasn't completely used to his strength. Everything that was supposed to be heavy was almost as light as a feather to Steve, while regular things were crushed almost without any effort by the supersoldier. He remembered the first year after his transformation; he had been forced to drink out of a metal cup after the nurses got fed up with continuously pulling glass shards out of his hands every time he tried to have a drink. The metal cup had been dented beyond recognition within a week.

Trying, and failing, to put these morose thoughts out of his head, Steve walked over to another pile of punching bags, effortlessly hefting one of the heavy bags on his shoulders. Still deep in thought he hung the bag on its chain, and took his stance again. When he had been put into this safehouse by S.H.I.E.L.D. the room had been filled with state of the art exercising equipment. The room had been filled to the brim with S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists, hoping to test the only recipient of the finished Rebirth serum, and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents eager to see if the man lived up to the legend. Both left wide-eyed and mouths agape when Steve accidentally broke every machine, either tearing it apart, or completely overheating it. From the rumours he had heard, the treadmill was still nothing more than a molten slag.

Having broken everything, Steve was left with just the punching bag, since there wasn't really anything high-tech or expensive about it that he could break. Also, they could be easily replaced.

Having settled into his stance, Steve began punching again, his fists almost a blur to the untrained eye. He had been doing this for six hours on end now, only stopping for small meals, before getting right back into it. Despite the grueling workout, and while sweaty, Steve was barely breathing any harder than usual, not even feeling remotely tired yet.

Steve had wondered about his limits a lot of times. The purpose of project Rebirth had been to turn regular men into another Hancock, who was as close to a god as the world had ever seen. Naturally, turning men into gods had been far out of reach of the technology of the 1940's, but the fact remained that Steve had left the realm of Man far behind him. Erskine managed to tell him before he died that Steve had turned into the perfect human, everything about him as high as possible as a person could achieve. Steve sometimes doubted that. After all, the project had tried to duplicate Hancock, who was many things, but Steve didn't think human was one of them. Not fully, anyway.

Hearing the stairs behind him creak, Steve automatically turned around, arms raised and feet spread, habits born from years and years of heavy-duty combat, not all of which had taken place on the battlefield, forcing themselves on his body and mind. Fully prepared to leap forward and pummel the possible threat into the ground, Steve regarded the figure warily. It stood on the stairs still concealed in shadow, making it impossible to make out his features, though Steve could tell it was a tall and well-muscled male. The time travelling Captain cleared his throat.

"How did you manage to get in here? This is a secure S.H.I.E.L.D. base. Identify yourself!"

There was a moment of silence as Steve simply kept a wary eye on the unresponsive figure. Suddenly it burst out in loud laughter, confusing Steve. Intruders usually didn't start laughing when discovered. Then the unknown man spoke, shocking Steve to his core. Because he recognized that voice. He had heard it when he had been fighting as Captain America, now more than seventy years ago.

"What's the matter Steve? You don't recognize an old friend? Guess what they say is true then, memory _is_ one of the first things to go in old age."

Steve couldn't answer, staring at the figure with his mouth hanging open. It had been the first time since he woke up that he _recognized_ something. The voice hadn't even changed since he last heard it, several weeks-, no _decades_ ago. Taking a hesitant step forward, still wary but oh so hopeful, Steve managed to force out a question.

"John?"

He could almost _feel_ the figure smiling, before it took a step forward, finally standing in the light, allowing Steve to properly see the man. A dark skinned man, with close cropped hair and a cleanly shaved face, was smiling broadly at him. The face was familiar, but the suit was not. His eyes were hidden by futuristic sunglasses, and he wore a black suit that covered his entire body save for his head and hands. The suit had several bright yellow highlights, Steve dimly noticed. Looking back at the man's face, he saw the grin widen even further, showing two sets of pearly white teeth.

"Hello Steve."

* * *

John figured he couldn't sneak up on the supersoldier. He had never really been good at stealth, and Steve's senses were high enough to detect someone who was. So he simply settled for surprising the time-displaced soldier. Judging by the wide eyes and open mouth, John had succeeded. He walked up towards the younger man of 93 and clasped his shoulder, snapping him out of his shock.

"But… how?"

John snorted.

"What? If you can live for close to a century then so can I."

Steve furrowed his brow, an expression that John was very familiar with. He had been the cause of it often enough, after all.

"You have lived for a century?"

"Actually I have lived for thirty centuries, but that's neither here or there."

Seeing Steve's mouth fall open again, John couldn't help but laugh.

"Better sit down Steve, this is going to take a while."

* * *

John sipped from his mug of tea, observing Steve with a critical eye, as the supersoldier stared ahead deep in thought, his own mug forgotten on the counter. They had retreated to the kitchen in order for John to tell Steve what he had happened to him after Steve went into the ice. Now, after close to three hours, John was finally finished with his tale.

While Steve was distracted, John examined his old friend as covertly as he could. He had seen Steve before he had received the serum and every time he looked at the soldier, John was amazed. Steve seemed like a different person when he stepped out of that test-tube, almost twice as large as when he went inside it, but somehow still recognizable as himself. Now though, John had trouble recognizing his friend who he knew to have a will even stronger than a pissed off Hulk.

The bags under his eyes and lines in his face almost screamed at John that Steve was immensely stressed. He wasn't really surprised. Fighting in a brutal war, beating the snot out of Red Skull, then deciding to sacrifice yourself in order to save the entire world, only to wake up almost a century later in the future. Everybody would be stressed, even a supersoldier. However, that was not what worried John. Steve was strong, both in body and mind, and he would adjust to his unique situation.

Eventually.

No, what worried John was the look in Steve's eyes. The soldier looked… lost. As if he wasn't sure what to do with himself now. John could sympathize; he had worn a similar look after realizing that he wasn't needed anymore after ridding the world from war and major crime. However, the look in Steve's eyes was far worse than his had been. Understandable, of course. Steve had been created to fight Red Skull and his Hydra forces. Captain America was meant as a weapon and had been used as such almost without any pause during the war.

Only now the war had ended. No Red Skull bent on world domination and having the power to do so. No Hydra forces armed with terrible weapons the world wasn't ready for. Steve had succeeded. The Allies had won. So what now? Despite being born over ninety years ago, Steve was still in his mid-twenties. Not usually an age in which one accomplishes his life goal. So what do you do once you do complete it? What is next? What purpose do you have, when the goal of your purpose has been fulfilled?

John didn't say anything though, simply sipping his tea. Steve didn't need any prodding, or a helping hand. It would simply be received as pity, and Steve had never liked receiving pity of any kind, not when he was big, and especially not when he had been small. Should he need help, then he wasn't too proud to ask for it. So John would simply wait until his help was asked for. Suddenly Steve let out an explosive sigh, and picked up his mug, sitting down across from John. Staring into the swirling liquid, Steve spoke up.

"So, you are a member of an superpowered, immortal race, though you don't know anything about it, just that they lose their power when they get close to their mate. And you have lived for over 3,000 years."

It wasn't really a question, so John didn't answer, simply humming in agreement.

"And you learned all that four years ago, when you accidentally met _your_ mate, only to almost die after that."

Again, John simply hummed.

"And then you vandalized the moon."

At this John chocked on his tea.

"I thought it was a nice gesture to Ray. It helped him out a lot!", John spluttered in his defense.

Steve looked up from his mug, pinning John with a flat look.

"The moon, Jonh. You graffitied the _moon_."

John simply shrugged his shoulders, causing Steve to sigh and look back into his mug of tea. A silence fell over the two friends, only broken by the sounds of birds chirping by the open window and the honking of a car a few houses further down the street. Suddenly Steve sighed again.

"And then you rid the world of crime and war."

Before John could hum in agreement again, Steve let out a bitter laugh.

"You created a world that didn't need a soldier."

Closing his eyes, Steve continued in a sad voice.

"Let alone a supersoldier."

Seeing his friend, who was probably the most optimistic person he had ever met, after Ray of course, looking so downtrodden, spurred John into action. His fist slammed down on the table, breaking it nearly in half, startling Steve, who looked up with wide eyes.

"So, you'd like the world to experience war again? Is that what you want?", John almost growled.

Steve looked horrified at the accusation.

"Of course not! I wouldn't wish war on _anyone_!", Steve shouted in outrage, a fire filling his eyes again.

"Then stop pouting about not having to a war to fight!", John roared back.

Steve's face dropped in shame, the fire leaving his eyes.

"But what else is a soldier to do? What do _I_ do?", Steve said softly, before looking up at John with desperate eyes.

"The war is over John. Skull is gone. Hydra is gone. And I am left. So what do I do now?"

Pulling himself up to his full height, John looked down at his friend with the most confident grin he could muster.

"You become a hero."

* * *

 **AN:** Sorry if this was too sentimental for you folks, but rest assured! Next chapter will show the impact Hancock has on WW II, so expect a lot of murder and mayhem. A lot of it is already drawn up, it just needs to be written and edited, so it won't really take all that long before I can upload it. Until then, and please drop a review? :D

 **Fun Fact:** Dave Chapelle was seriously concidered for the role of Hancock. Just think about that for a while. Dave Chapelle. As Hancock. And you thought Nicholas Cage as Superman was a dodged bullet. (Is that even an English proverb? Meh, it is now.)


	3. Warstories

**AN:** Hello and welcome to the third chapter of HI, the last exposition chapter before we get into the trademark McU asskicking-scenes! In this chapter there's a flashback to WW II, in which we see how Hancock and Cap first met. I decided to do CA: The First Avengers in large flashbacks, since Hancock isn't there the entire time in the film: he and Cap cross paths yes, but they are mostly doing their own thing. So expect maybe two or three of these, befor we leave Hancock's history in the past where it belongs and focus solely on the 21st century :)

That being said, please feel free to send me reviews with ideas for possible scenes for flashbacks. Or even reviews about wether you like the flashback system in the first place! All feedback is much appreciated :)

Without further ado, Chapter 3! (Yes the title is a reference to Firefly. Pay attention, there's a little nod to the series in this chapter :D)

* * *

 **Chapter 3 – Warstories**

John ducked beneath a leg that soared just inches past his head, his body already preparing itself to burst forward for the counterattack. When the leg had just barely passed him by, John acted, launching a series of jabs at his opponent, trying to get past his guard. However, the enemy was good, very good in fact, and had used the momentum of the leg-swing to turn gracefully out of John's reach. John quickly closed the distance, but his opponent had already brought his own guard up, and masterfully guided John's swinging punches away from his body, not willing to test the strength of his guard against the strength of John's fists.

John, frustrated at his lack of success, overextended on a punch, putting the full momentum of the turning of his torso into the strike. The result was an attack that would have, had it connected, launched his enemy clear across the room.

And quite possibly through the wall.

As it was, the enemy simply twisted his torso to the side, grabbed John's wrist and _pulled_ the superhuman past him. John was helpless against his own momentum, amplified by his opponent's not inconsiderable strength. As he sailed by, his side was fully exposed, something that the enemy pointed out by turning with John, and putting the full force of their momentum in a knee strike, having much the same idea as John, only executing it better.

Any other man would have crumpled to the ground whimpering and holding shattered ribs, but while John felt the impact there was no pain. After all, pain was the body sending signals to the brain that something was wrong or damaged. Since the attack didn't damage his body, hell, head-butting a _train_ didn't do any damage, there was no pain-signal sent to John's brain.

This allowed him to immediately turn around, surprising his opponent somewhat, who clearly wasn't used to people still standing after being on the receiving end of his attacks. However, the enemy proved to have good instincts and reflexes; the moment John pulled back his arm with the intention of reeling in his opponent, much like a fisherman would reel in his catch, the other man let go, trying to leap backwards, creating more room to out-maneuver the physically more superior of the two.

John would have none of that though, and moved almost in sync with his opponent, sending quick jabs, trying to destabilize his opponent's footing as he tried to both dodge and back away; blocking was not an option, not against someone like John Hancock. Seeing the man leap backwards, finally having created the room to counterattack, John did something that surprised both of them; he leapt forward as well, arms wide-spread, appearing as a blur.

John collided with the enemy at great speeds, making the other man let out an 'oompfh!', as the air was driven from his lungs. Having his slippery opponent finally in his grasp, John used his enormous strength and slightly larger stature to lift the other man clear of the ground, and gave him a bear-hug, slowly increasing the pressure. His opponent was desperately trying to get out of his position, raining down blows and powerful kicks, but the simply glanced off off John's invulnerable skin.

Finally, after almost two minutes, the enemy relented.

"I… s-surrender. For God's sakes John, _let_ _go_!"

Laughing, John opened his arms, allowing the defeated opponent to land on the ground with a thud. James grinned down at the man, not even bothering to mask his smugness, something the other man clearly didn't appreciate.

"You cheated.", Steve Rogers, probably the most virile 90-year old alive, said scowling as he stood up again.

John simply shrugged at the accusation, only half-heartedly trying to defend himself.

"No I didn't; it was a certified take-down move."

"If it wasn't for your invulnerability, that move would have taken _you_ down instead; you had no guard to speak of, and I could attack at will."

"Then it's a good thing I'm invulnerable, huh?", John simply grinned, getting an annoyed huff out of Steve.

What went unsaid of course was the fact that John was not _always_ invulnerable. However, after telling Steve about it the first time, neither man brought it up again. It was a painful memory and a powerful lesson, but not one that would prove any sort of use when brought up. So they didn't talk about it, though John pretended not to notice when Steve recreated similar combat-scenarios.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, before pinning John with a glare that was half exasperated and half annoyed, reminding John of Ray.

' _Steve and Ray would really get along well with each other.'_ , John mused, before banishing the horrifying thought.

He fervently hoped that the two wouldn't ever meet; they would undoubtedly team up in an effort to turn John in a model-citizen, never mind that he already was a hero. Before you know it, John would be doing stuff such as, he shuddered, _paying his bills_. Shaking himself from the morbid thought, John focused back on what Steve was saying, who luckily hadn't noticed his lapse in attention as he paced around the training room.

"… you know what Fury said. Honestly, since this is him holding up _his_ part of his deal with _you_ , I don't see why you don't put more effort into this."

John frowned at this.

"I do put effort into this. But a lot of the basics I already know, and sometimes certain moves and stances come automatically. You know this Steve."

* * *

"You know this Steve."

Steve did. As did most of S.H.I.E.L.D., and just about anybody who knew John's age and the plan to train him in hand-to-hand combat. You can't live for 3,000 years and _not_ pick up any fighting skills along the way.

They assumed. It wasn't as if they knew anything about the effects of immortality, given the fact that none of them actually were immortal themselves. Honestly, the best source of information on this would be Mary, but she refused to have anything to do with S.H.I.E.L.D. and both she and John were wary of getting near each other again.

So Steve simply sighed. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. God, he hoped there was a mission or something for him soon.

"I know John. I really do. But you just _can't_ keep relying on brute strength and half-forgotten ancient combat forms.", he said pleadingly.

John simply grunted before brushing past Steve up the stairs, leaving the supersoldier alone in the basement. Looking around the empty room, Steve gave a final sigh and followed John up the stairs. He found him at the kitchen-table, a new one, this one reinforced and rather heavy if the glares of the moving men were anything to go by, simply staring into a cup of tea.

Fixing himself a cup as well, Steve seated himself across from John, much like a week before, simply waiting for John to start talking. He didn't have to wait very long.

"23 minutes and 48 seconds."

Steve blinked in surprise.

"I'm sorry, what?"

John looked up, giving a wry grin.

"You lasted 23 minutes and 48 seconds against me. That's got to be a record or something.", the superhuman laughed.

Steve joined his friend in laughter. Because learning you lasted more than twenty minutes against the most powerful being on earth? Yeah, that was an awesome feeling.

As the laughter died down to chuckles John peered at his tea again.

"23 minutes…", he murmured softly to himself before giving a snort of amusement.

"I wonder how long tiny you would have lasted."

Steve winced before sputtering a protest.

"I was not _tiny_! I was simply… small…-ish?"

Another snort was his answer.

"Smallish? No, no, no, you were tiny, the tiniest man I had ever seen in military fatigues."

John smiled fondly.

"You looked ridiculous. Especially because your helmet kept slipping over your eyes."

Steve couldn't help but smile as well and a companionable silence fell over the room as the two friends thought back to when they had first met, now a few decades short of a century ago.

* * *

 _6_ _th_ _of June, 1942  
Camp Lehigh in service of the Strategic Scientific Reserve.  
Unknown location_

John Hancock was annoyed.

Scratch that, he was pissed.

It had been close to over two years since the Breaking of Berlin and instead of signing for surrender, the Nazi's just stepped up their game, with Hydra pumping out the strangest and most dangerous weapons man had ever seen. Every time he hit them, they hit even harder, completely wiping their enemies off the map. No matter how many bases he smashed to pieces or how many Hydra battalions he ripped apart, the fascist bastards just kept coming back for more.

And they were winning.

There were simply too many of them, and not enough of him. Wherever he was _not_ , Hydra would almost effortlessly beat back the Allied forces. Even as John was deployed to take back one part of the line, the enemy would smash through somewhere else. Despite John's string of victories, morale was at an all-time low. John was needed in too many places to be spared to defend a single point, so each time he arrived to liberate territory from Hydra, the soldiers there knew that he would be leaving again soon and then they would be easy pickings again. It was a never-ending cycle and depression had begun to set in.

Which lead to John's current state of mind, as he walked across a dirt road towards the barracks in the distance.

He was needed at the front, now more than ever. But instead he was pulled out of combat for the foreseeable future. Why? Because some _German_ scientist wanted to make more of him. And the various leaders of the Allied Forces jumped at the chance to have more superhumans flying about in their uniform, even though most of them had promised John that they had created the S.S.R. in order to figure out what he was and where he came from. Instead, it seemed, they were going to weaponize him.

Maybe John wouldn't have minded so much if not for the fact that the S.S.R. _still_ hadn't come up with any answers to the numerous questions that surrounded John Hancock. They hadn't even found out what his real name was. It appeared as if they just didn't bother anymore, instead focusing their attention solely on Project: Rebirth, and expected him to just hand over everything he knew about himself to the Project; which at this point, was even less than what they knew!

Frustrated, John kicked a pebble lying in front of it, only to wince as the small rock turned projectile shot off towards the distance, achieving supersonic speeds in seconds, heating up to incredible levels as a result of the tremendous forces acting upon it, and smashing into one of the buildings with an explosion not unlike that of a small-grade rocket.

John winced, before hurriedly taking to the air, leaving a deep crater behind. Already a fire had started in the building, but it appeared to be under control for now. Deciding to at least own up to the damage, though he wouldn't pay a single penny for it; he didn't get payed enough to cover the cost anyway, he crashed down to the ground, cratering it as a result, and sending a rippling shockwave through the camp, causing quite a few men to stumble, and more than a few unflattering insults to be thrown at John.

Not even bothering to apologize, John turned towards a severe looking older man, whose stripes and uniform identified him as a Colonel. Standing next to him was an attractive redhead, who had a truly impressive scowl on her face, as she glared from John to the burning building and back to John. The Colonel simply looked mildly annoyed, as if setting fire to a part of his base was only a minor inconvenience. He turned to look John square in the eye, something that a lot of people were uncomfortable with doing, and then turned sharply on his heels, striding away with long steps, causing the redhead to break out almost into a run. Without looking over his shoulder, the Colonel called out to John.

"Come along then Mr. Hancock! Time to meet the fresh meat!"

* * *

Steve swallowed as sweat dripped down the side of his face. He could blame it on the harsh sun beaming down on the patch of yellow grass he and the other recruits had been standing on for what felt like hours now, but that would be a lie. Steve's small and frail body was almost always cold, not entirely capable of keeping itself at a high enough temperature, meaning that while the men around him were grumbling about the heat amongst themselves, Steve was feeling rather pleasantly warm.

No, his sweaty palms had nothing to do with the weather. It was nervousness, plain and simple. Despite his patriotism, optimism and immense strength of will, Steve knew that he was signing on for the bloodiest war in the history of mankind. He knew that the odds for surviving were rather bad, and that was for a strong, healthy soldier. He was neither strong nor healthy and as he studied the towering men surrounding him from under the rim of his too-large helmet, standing in ill-fitting fatigues, a small part of his mind wandered if he even was a soldier.

Before his thoughts could spiral down any further a small explosion ripped him from his thoughts. He looked up with wide eyes, immediately spotting the fire that was consuming one of the barracks, like a bonfire on steroids. The men all started shuffling, anxiousness hanging in the air so thick, you could punch it in the face. However, the feeling was warranted; they were recruits, promising recruits, yes, but still recruits, unarmed and standing in the open, with no superior officer around to give them orders or offer a clue about what was going on. For all they knew, Hydra had attacked the base. Something that was entirely possible, if the rumors surrounding Johann Schmidt's spies were to be believed.

"What's happening? What do we do?!", the man standing to Steve asked aloud, not even trying to mask the fear in his voice.

Steve looked at the man disapprovingly. The man was a full foot taller than Steve and weighed probably twice as much, but was now shaking in his boots. However, Steve would never insult another person, he wouldn't even do so much a snort, he had been on the receiving end of derision too often for him to do it to someone else. Besides, his Ma would probably return from the afterlife and tan his hide if he did. So Steve kept his mouth shut and remained standing at attention, even as his fellow recruits started to break ranks.

Steve couldn't see him due to his overly large helmet, but across from the small patch of land, sitting in an army Jeep, a smartly dressed man was observing Steve's rigid stance with a critical eye and an approving smile tugging at his lips.

"Fuck this, I'm not waiting around for Hydra to set my ass on fire!", the man next to Steve spoke up again, getting some agreeing nods and murmurs from the rest of the squad.

Steve frowned at that. Their last order had been to wait here until a superior officer showed up to debrief them. Since no new orders had arrived, the order to remain here was still in effect. If they were needed, then the officers should be able to find them, something that became much more complicated if they were disobeying orders and running around like headless chickens.

So Steve did what had in the past had led to numerous ass-kickings, something that he remained doing despite them, because it was what was right.

He spoke up.

"We stay."

The two words, spoken softly, though Steven couldn't speak loudly even if he wanted to, somehow managed to reach every recruit. Each of them stilled, a heavy silence falling over the group as an unseen tension suddenly made itself known.

"What was that, shrimp?", the talkative man asked, looming over Steve with a challenging expression on his face.

Steve didn't even bat an eye. He remained standing at attention and didn't spare the other man so much as a glance as he replied.

"I _said_ we stay. We got our orders, and until we get new ones, they still apply. And those orders said: We. Stay."

As he spoke the last two words, Steve finally tuned to his fellow recruit, ignoring the way he had to crane his neck in order to look the other man in the eye. What he saw made him tense up. The man's nervousness had been building up, and now it had found an outlet in Steve. The man cracked his knuckles in a way that made Steve _very_ uncomfortable.

"You wanna know what I think about those orders, little guy?"

"You can tell me, recruit, because I am _very_ interested what you're going to say.", a commanding voice called out, freezing every man in his tracks.

* * *

"Look, sir, about the building, I didn't-"

"Save it Hancock, we ain't got the time right now to worry about all that. Hydra is stomping our asses and if we want to stomp back on the bastards, we're going to need more of you. We _need_ this Project to work."

John snapped his mouth shut, deciding that if the Colonel was willing to let it go, then so was he. The woman apparently didn't agree with that train of thought though.

"Sir, while we do indeed need Mr. Hancock for Rebirth, we cannot very well let him gallivant around and mindlessly wrecking our property! How are we going to defeat the Nazi's if Hancock here saves them the trouble of destroying our bases!"

John took offence to that. This lady had obviously never seen him at work. If he wanted something to be destroyed, it _would be_ destroyed. The Breaking of Berlin was more than a fancy title. Even the Fuhrer's wrath had not managed to speed up the repairs, leaving most of Berlin still in ruins and rumors had it that the leaders of the Nazi's had to convene in an old bunker, since their previous HQ still wasn't anything more than rubble.

Perhaps dust was a more appropriate term.

The Colonel obviously _had_ been informed though, because he scoffed at almost exactly the same time as John did.

"Miss Carter, had Hancock _wanted_ our base gone, it would be gone, I can assure you. Now, if you wish to file a complaint, feel free to submit it to my office. For now, I think we need to address our… _recruits_."

The last word was dripping with disapproval, and as John followed Phillips' gaze he could see why; a group of rookies, obviously distressed by his accidental destruction, who had completely abandoned any pretense of standing in orderly lines. In fact, the only recruit that John could see that was still standing at attention was a little runt of a man, whose eyes were shadowed by the brim of a helmet that appeared to be several sizes too large for him.

John almost snorted, until he saw the little guy round on the man next to him, who looked like he could give Hercules a run for his money. John couldn't help the feeling of respect that welled up unbidden inside of him as the shrimp held his ground, even as he had to look up at the other guy. John's hearing picked up their conversation and he had to repress a chuckle.

"I _said_ we stay. We got our orders, and until we get new ones, they still apply. And those orders said: We. Stay."

' _He's got guts, I'll give him that at least.'_ , John thought to himself with a smirk.

By now, their small group had come close enough to the recruits that they could hear the big guy's response, both Phillips and Carter having picked up the pace at the sight of unruly soldiers, arguably the worst kind of soldier to plague any army in history.

"You wanna know what I think about those orders, little guy?"

John could see the confrontation coming and prepared himself to intervene before he was beaten to the punch by the voice of Phillips ringing out across the field.

"You can tell me, recruit, because I am _very_ interested what you're going to say."

John didn't even bother to hide his chuckle as the big dude suddenly turned as white as his t-shirt at being called out on the spot by a commanding officer. Phillips obviously wasn't in a happy mood though, as he stepped towards the hulk of a man and spoke in a growling voice that somehow managed to reach every single one of the recruits.

"Now you listen to me _recruit_ , and you listen closely. I will _not_ allow any subordination of _any_ kind. You understand? You so much as _look_ at me wrong and I will give you a choice. Either a full tour at Hydra hotspots in nothing but your undies or are full-contact spar with Hancock. And he _won't_ be holding back."

Seeing all of the recruits swing their attention to him, John chuckled and gave a cheeky wave, the raging fire in the background doing nothing to make the scene any less disturbing. John could hear several heartbeats frantically picking up the pace again and let out another chuckle. Interestingly though, the little guy's heartbeat remained steady.

"Am I understood?", Phillips asked of the group, his eyes however not leaving the idiot in front of him.

"Sir, yes sir!", chorused back at the Colonel.

"Am I really now?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"So, will I have to deal with any of you pansies being incapable of following orders?"

"Sir, no sir!"

"Really?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"What's your name recruit?"

"Sir, the name is Reynolds, sir!"

"Then you wouldn't mind dropping and giving me fifty, would you _recruit_ Reynolds?"

The now named brute looked at Phillips in confusion, obviously not used to being reprimanded.

"Sir?"

The Colonel simply sighed in annoyance.

"Hancock!", he barked.

"Sir?", John answered immediately. Indestructible he might be, Phillips wasn't a man to be crossed and John had no intention of doing so.

Turning away from Reynolds, Phillips walked away.

"I found you a sparring partner.", he said in a nonchalant voice that most people use to discuss the weather or something equally mundane.

Looking at the now decidedly ill-looking Reynolds, John smiled and cracked his knuckles in the same way the recruit had done only moments before. The message was clear: Karma's a bitch.

* * *

Steve winced in sympathy as his now-named opponent was led away by the most powerful being on Earth. Sure, the guy was about to punch his lights out, but still, sparring with _Hancock_ of all things? Yeah, that was deserving of at least a wince of sympathy.

Reynolds was immediately forgotten though, as Steve straightened up when Phillips rounded on him.

"You, what's your name boy?", the Colonel barked.

"Sir, the name's Rogers, sir!"

"Rogers, I would ask you to drop and give me fifty, but since I doubt you can give me even _five_ I'll just forget your role in all of this entirely, shall I?", Phillips asked, venom dropping from his voice with every clipped sentence.

As the men surrounding him chuckled, Steve gritted his teeth. He knew that even if he could make it into the Army, he would be considered the runt of the litter. He had always been seen like that and it pissed him off. It was also what drove him, turning the anger in determination. Determination to prove them wrong and make them eat their words. Which is why he answered without even so much as a second of hesitation.

"Sir, no sir!"

A silent hush fell amongst the group as the Colonel slowly turned back to Steve and approached him with long and steady strides, until they were standing almost chest to chest with each other.

Steve could see the men around him trying to get as far away from their officer as possible without breaking ranks. However he simply squared his shoulders and stared ahead.

"You want to repeat yourself, recruit?", Phillip's low voice rumbled across the clearing.

"Sir, I said no, sir!", Steve answered, proud that at least his voice was steady. His response got him a raised eyebrow, before a dangerous look came across Phillips eyes.

"So, you _want_ to give me fifty then, do you soldier?", the Colonel's voice matching the look in his eyes.

"Sir, yes, sir!", Steve answered without hesitation, even as he knew he was probably digging an even deeper hole for himself.

"And what if I made it a hundred soldier? You'd still want to do it then?"

It didn't escape Steve's notice that Phillips had called him soldier instead of recruit. He discarded the thought almost immediately though. He had more important things on his mind right now. Such as the fact that he could, in fact, _not_ do a hundred push-ups.

"Sir, yes sir!"

Again a silence fell across the clearing as Phillips simply scrutinized his face. Steve could feel the incredulous stares of the other recruits on his back, but he ignored it, trying to remain standing at attention and to not shake too much. The Colonel kept up his inspection, though nobody knew _what_ it was he had been inspecting, for several minutes before suddenly giving a sharp nod.

"Alright then soldier. Give me a hundred. And don't you dare leave this field until all hundred of them are done, or it will be _you_ sparring with Hancock."

Said superhuman chose to make his entrance know at that point, dragging a bruised and bleeding Reynolds behind him and a bored expression on his face.

Forcing down the need to swallow nervously, Steve simply saluted.

"Sir, yes sir!"

* * *

John stood next to the army Jeep, his arms crossed over his chest and a deep frown on his face. He had left Reynolds lying in the dirt; the man would regain consciousness anytime now anyway. The mouthy punching bag wasn't the cause of John's expression though. The occupant of the Jeep, however, was. Dr. Erskine. A man with a brilliant mind, so far ahead of his time, it made other geniuses look like incompetent idiots. And the scientist who claimed to be capable of duplicating John's powers.

John didn't really know what to think of the German scientist. On one hand, he was essentially weaponizing John, on the other hand, most of the information John had on himself came from this man's research. While Erskine didn't try to find answers to the question surrounding John, he found he couldn't really be angry at the doctor for it; after all, the scientist wasn't really a part of S.S.R. and as such hadn't broken any promises. John decided he would simply have to withhold judgement.

For now.

Focusing on the recruits in front of him, John couldn't help but grin as the shrimp dropped down to the ground and started his push-ups. It may have been a cruel assumption on Phillips' part, but it would seem the Colonel was right, as the little guy began struggling after his third push-up. The fourth only got barely done, and Roger's whole body was shaking during the fifth. Having completed it, the recruit dropped back to the ground.

Phillips stood next to the squirt, hands clasped behind his back, not saying anything and with a stone-cold expression on his face. The air was heavy with a pregnant silence as all eyes were riveted on the small man lying panting on the ground. John was about to step in and say something about it, seeing Miss Carter about to do the same from the corner of his eyes, but a grunt stopped them. The silence somehow managed to get even heavier, as Rogers started to push himself up, his arms shaking and sweat pouring down his face.

"Six."

The word was ground out between clenched teeth, and Rogers fell to the ground almost immediately after, but the message had been delivered: I managed more than five, and I will manage a hundred as well. John couldn't help but smile at the sheer audacity the shrimp had.

' _You go kid!'_ , he mentally cheered for the little guy.

Looking at Phillips John was surprised to see the Colonel smiling as well.

"Remember soldier: a hundred push-ups. No rush.", the officer offered in a falsely polite tone.

All he got was a grunt and a "Sir, yes sir." before Rogers started pushing himself up again.

"Seven."

John grinned even wider.

As Phillips walked over to John and Dr. Erskine next to the army Jeep he addressed Miss Carter.

"Agent Carter, please take over from here, if you please?"

Carter simply nodded before walking up to the recruits, ignoring a panting Rogers, who was now struggling with number eight.

"General Patton has said: "Wars are fought with weapons, but are won with men." We are going to win this war, because we are going to _create_ the better man…."

John stopped paying attention to the Agent's speech, only to smirk when she punched out one idiot who decided to interrupt her. Instead John focused his attention on Phillips who joined him and Erskine at the Jeep.

"Well Colonel? Vhat do you zink about him?", the doctor asked, his accent heavy.

John straightened up, interested in what the officer had to say as well. Phillips remained silent for a few moments, his eyes on a panting Rogers, before a corner of his mouth tugged up in what, with a lot of imagination and goodwill, could have been called a grin.

"I like him."

John snorted in amusement, though the doctor seemed to be over the moon at the answer. The German turned to John next, a wide smile still on his face.

"And you, Hancock?"

John was silent for a few moments as well, before chuckling.

"Yeah, I guess me too."

* * *

John laughed long and hard at the memory, Steve laughing right along with him. Wiping the tears from his eyes, John grinned at his friend.

"You stayed out on that goddamn field until nightfall!", John roared in laughter.

Steve smiled fondly before answering.

"Yeah, Phillips stayed by my side all night long. You know, I don't think I ever actually finished those hundred pushups? Guess Phillips took pity on me at some point."

John snorted in response.

"Phillips? Pity? Please, he probably just wanted to finally go to bed."

Steve laughed in response, almost spilling his, now cold, tea.

"Yeah, that's a lot more like him.", Steve conceded with fond grin.

Both friends fell silent, thinking about the friends they had made during the war. The silence was a bitter-sweet one; the memories were sweet, the fact that, of the people in those memories, they were the only ones not six feet under, was bitter.

The silence was abruptly shattered by an alarm ringing throughout the small kitchen. Both men jumped up at the sound, falling into combat forms reflexively, their chairs clattering to the ground. John glared at the phone lying on the counter. The small black rectangle of technology wasn't deterred though, and kept on ringing at an ungodly volume.

"This had better be good.", John rumbled as he stomped to get the damn thing, leaving small dents in the kitchen floor.

Steve knew better than to point them out.

"Yes?!", John snapped as he picked up the phone.

From his place at the other side of the table, Steve's hearing picked up the sharp voice of Nick Fury. The man's urgent tone made both men tense up. If the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. sounded worried, chances were, you had better be worried yourself as well.

"Hancock. Rogers. S.H.I.E.L.D. needs you. Both of you.", Fury's voice came clear through the small speaker on the phone.

"What's going on Nick?", John asked wearily, leaving the kitchen, Steve already putting on his boots in the hallway.

The Director's next words froze both of them in their tracks though.

"I'm calling in the Avenger's."

* * *

 **AN:** Aaaaand end scene! :D What could Fury possibly want from our heroes? Oh, who am I kidding, every single one of you has already seen The Avengers already. Anyway, next chapter, Hancock and Cap join up with the rest of the Avengers at the Helicarrier and we get a few more flashbacks of Hancock kicking Hydra butt. Thanks to all of you who have read, reviewed, favorited or followed this story! I greatly appreciate it :D

 **Fun Fact:** We all know Cap's greatest enemies are the nazi's. Not really a surprise when you keep in mind that Cap was created in the 1940's as propaganda to call Americans to war. What most people forget though is that Cap's enemies changed with the times. They didn't put his comics on ice and brought them back out in the 2000's. They kept publishing Cap's adventures, but after Nazi Germany had fallen and WW II had ended, our hero needed a new enemy. Enter the Cold War. Cap's enemies turned from nazi's to communists during the Red Scare, a paranoid time in America, in which people feared agents of communism had infiltrated the U.S. This led to a year of Cap encountering evil commies at possible turn. And beating the gospel of capitalism into their communist skulls.

Gotta love American paranoia.


	4. A Call to Assemble

**AN:** First off let me apologize for two reasons. The first is the long wait for this update. BUT I have a valid excuse. I left the country for two weeks during the holiday, during which I had no means to write, only arriving back home on the 4th of January. Since then, I have had a lot of difficulty with my internet, which was a problem, because I didn't know how to advance the end of this chapter so that it flows smoothly into the next. In order to do that, I had to watch the movie, which I couldn't because of my internet. Still, I feel really bad about making you guys wait for so long especially after the amazing response this story has gotten.

Which leads me to my second apology. In my last AN I said that this chapter would be filled with action. This... is not true. At all. It's more filler than anything really, and after rewatching the film, I decided that the first bit of real action (confrontation with Thor) is still so far off, I decided that in order to do it justice, it will have to get its own chapter. The reason for this is somewhat embarrassing, but Coulson just took over, no matter what I tried. Then I finally regained the rains of my writing, only to have them taken away by Ironman. So after all that, I was just left with the option of one gargantuan chapter, or to cut it off here, and do two decent ones. I decided for the latter.

Anyway, I hope that's enough groveling from me, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 4 – A call to Assemble**

There was a silent tension in the Quinjet, only disturbed by the gentle hum of its engines, as they flew towards S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, the location of which _still_ hadn't been disclosed to Steve and John.

The superhuman and the supersoldier were sitting next to each other, John looking bored and Steve appearing to be lost in his thoughts. Both expressions were only partially true though. Both men were tense, their bodies and minds ready to jump into action at any moment.

However, John _was_ bored; Fury had simply said that a ride would be provided to HQ and that they would be debriefed during the flight. Meaning that it would still be a little while before he could do what he was best at: smashing things to bits.

Steve _was_ deep in thought though. Not surprising really; he had learned only minutes ago that not only had Hydra's power-source and means of mass-destruction survived to this century just like he had, it was now in the hands of an actual _god_. Sure, John had told him about the Asgardians being real, but it only really hit him now. He had seen first-hand the damage the Tesseract could do in the hands of a mortal man, the thought of what a mythical god could do with it… Steve barely managed to suppress a violent shudder at the mere idea.

Sitting across from them was a middle-aged man in a non-descript suit with a friendly expression on his face. The man was utterly unremarkable in every way, appearing so forgettable and harmless, John had trouble remembering the man's face whenever he looked away; despite having sat in front of the man for the better part of twenty minutes.

The man's apparent harmlessness however was belied by the gun in his waistband, and the fact that he had the clearance to debrief both of them at once in a non-secure location. All of this told Steve and John that this particular agent was pretty high up in the chain of command in S.H.I.E.L.D.

Which gave his friendly expression something unsettling. Nobody that dangerous should be able to come across so non-threatening.

The smile on the man's face was clearly genuine though; the man had had a puppy-look in his eyes the moment he saw Steve, stumbling over his words and looking for all the world like a little schoolkid who just met his greatest hero. Something that was only reinforced when the agent, with an impressive blush on his face, asked Steve to sign his collection of Captain America cards.

John had laughed so hard he cracked some windows in the safe-house, while Steve's blushing and stammering neatly matched that of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. John's laughter had come to an abrupt hold though, when the spy whipped out another set of cards and held them up to John with a hopeful expression on his face.

They had needed to pick up a still laughing Steve off the floor in order to leave.

However after a few minutes of silence, during which neither man had said so much as a single word, the agent still looking awestruck at his two sets of signed cards, John had had enough.

"So, anything more you can tell us about this Loki, Coulson?"

John saw Steve look up from his brooding, while the agent blinked his eyes a couple of times, appearing to be caught off guard. However, the facial expression didn't fool John or Steve for even a second. You don't reach the age this guy had achieved in the world of spies by being caught off guard.

The agent cleared his throat before falling into the same business-like manner he had used during John's and Steve's debrief.

"The target Loki appeared in our world through what appeared to be a portal, created by the Tesseract. How this was possible, we don't know, though Dr. Selvig, who was studying the Tesseract at the time, said that the item itself was most likely responsible. The target then killed multiple agents on site, and appeared to take control of several others, including Selvig. We have also reason to assume Agent Barton is under his control as well."

At this Steve spoke up.

"Who is Barton?"

At the question, Coulson fell silent for a moment, before giving his friendly smile again. However, there was something lurking beneath the man's eyes, something different about the way he held himself, that had both superheroes noticeably tensing up.

"Agent Barton is also known as Hawkeye and is our most accomplished sniper. I am Agent Barton's handler."

While this in itself didn't really mean anything significant, the tone in which he said it _was_ ; it showed that the relation between Coulson and his ward was far closer than usual.

John simply swallowed, not showing any other sign of nervousness, before prompting Coulson to continue.

"Where is this Loki now?"

At this, the spy simply sighed.

"We don't know. We hope the Avengers can find out."

John turned up his nose at the answer.

"Sorry to burst your bubble Coulson, but I'm not really the tracking type."

Steve nodded in agreement.

"I have led only a handful of tracking missions, and most of them were me following the lead of another soldier."

Steve frowned, obviously trying to remember something.

"What was the guy's name? Some Canadian fellow, James, John, Jack? Something like that."

Ignoring Steve's musings, John leaned forwards, his arms resting on his knees. He stared Coulson straight in the eye, though to the man's credit, he didn't flinch, instead he simply kept on giving his friendly/unsettling smile.

"I assume this is where the rest of the Avengers come in?"

Seeing Coulson nod, John immediately continued.

"So what do we know about Loki? I mean, what do we know about the guy himself? When we find him, how do we beat him?"

Coulson frowned, apparently trying to order his thoughts before answering the question.

"The target is of Asgardian descent, though if the myths are to be believed he is actually a Frost Giant, adopted by Odin at a young age. As a result we are unsure as to his physical abilities, though previous interactions with the Asgardian Thor suggest that you are physically superior to him in every way. The Captain may be of similar if somewhat lesser strength, though Loki's durability is undoubtedly higher."

Pausing for a moment, Coulson frowned as he tapped a finger to his chin, appearing to be racking his brain for more information about the Prince of Lies. John barely withheld a snort; he had absolutely no doubt the spy had an entire mental file inside his head which he could access at will.

Every spy worth his salt had them, and as the conversation continued, John got the idea that Coulson was a _very_ good spy. Not the James Bond kind of spy, sleeping with beautiful ladies and engaging in spectacular firefights on the top of a speeding train. No, Coulson was the spy who didn't _need_ to have a firefight with his target: he would simply walk up to them, have a friendly conversation with the person in question, and walk away with all the answers he needed and his target none the wiser.

In short, Coulson was the spy you never saw coming, but who you'd invite to dinner without even questioning it.

The spy, unaware of John's internal musing picked up where he left off.

"The myths and on-hand witness accounts of the target taking control of several of our agents suggest that Loki is either capable of magic, or has really advanced technology. It could be either or both; Thor gave the impression that they are considered to be one and the same in Asgard. Though studies of his hammer have shown it to be what we consider to be magical."

In a world where Hancock had taken to the sky and throwing cars around on a daily basis for over eighty years had led to people taking the supernatural a lot more seriously than they otherwise might have had. This is why, when Coulson mentioned the possibility of Loki wielding magic, neither Steve nor John dismissed it out of hand.

"We don't know the extent of his magical abilities, though we do know that illusions are a large part of it, so be prepared for that. Interestingly enough, he didn't appear to use any of them on his arrival, instead using his superior physiology and knife throwing. As of yet, we don't know why this is the case. We also don't know what he wants with the Tesseract. It is almost invaluable as a power source, so he might use it to grant himself a boost in his abilities, though we don't have a clue as to how that would even work. Or, given the fact that the Tesseract brought him to our world, he might use it as a sort of gateway."

At this, Steve frowned in confusion and spoke up.

"A gateway? A gateway to where?"

Coulson let out another half-smile, though the super soldier could see the worry in the agent's eyes.

"Let's hope that we don't find out Captain."

* * *

As John walked across the deck of the ship he had to contain a snort of derision. Seriously? _This_ was the way-too-top-secret base of S.H.I.E.L.D.? A fancy boat? Giving a sigh, John looked around for something to do. As soon as they had touched down, Coulson had excused himself and simply vanished without either Steve or John noticing, going off to do whatever it is spies do when they are being all mysterious-like. Privately, John suspected the Agent was putting his signed cards in the most secure location he could think of. Unfortunately, this left Steve and John stranded on the middle of the deck without their guide.

Seeing nothing of particular interest, John shrugged and walked over to where Steve stood shaking an intelligent looking man's hand. The man appeared to be very nervous, something that John found even odder when he noticed all the nearby S.H.I.E.L.D. flunkies giving the man nervous looks of their own. The oddity was explained though when John overheard Steve talking.

"Mr. Banner, a pleasure to meet you."

"Somehow, I really doubt that Captain. Though I appreciate the sentiment."

Ah, so this was the counterpart to the infamous Hulk. Looking at the shy man, John had to say that Mr. Banner didn't look like he was hiding a raging green behemoth under his skin. In fact, the man looked like he couldn't even harm a fly.

Then again, as John should know, looks could be deceiving.

As John got near the two men, he noticed a redheaded woman standing next to Banner. She was a beautiful woman, with long legs and a shapely body John glanced at appreciatively. However, the woman projected an aura of danger about her, more so than either the super soldier or the rage monster beside her.

Not even remotely close to his though.

"Ah, John. Meet Dr. Banner, better known as the Hulk.", Steve greeted John, placing a hand on Banner's shoulder.

The doctor looked uncomfortable, though John couldn't tell if it was because of the physical contact or the introduction.

' _Probably both'_ , John silently thought, as he shook the man's hand and smiled as non-threateningly as he could, recalling his pracitse sessions with Ray.

Apparently it worked, since Banner visibly relaxed after shaking John's hand.

"I'm glad to see that S.H.I.E.L.D. had the presence of mind to ensure that at least _someone_ is capable of removing the Other Guy, should he make an appearance."

The redhead visibly bristled at the veiled insult at S.H.I.E.L.D., though the three men chose to simply ignore it. Compared to each of them, when it came to combat and destructive abilities, she was a non-threat.

"I'm very pleased to meet you Hancock; I am a fan of your work. You did a lot of good in a lot of countries who sorely needed it. I would also like to thank you for… you know… not teaming up with Ross to take me in.", Dr. Banner finished shyly.

John simply grinned at that.

"Don't mention it Doc, the guy was an asshole anyway."

Before Banner could recover from his stunned expression, Steve coughed before retaking control of the conversation.

"Right. Now, before we all go and insult the military leaders of our country any further, let's continue with the introductions shall we? John, meet Agent Romanov, also known as Black Widow."

The redhead held out a perfectly manicured hand, which John shook without a second of hesitation, inwardly grinning when he saw that this put the woman slightly off-guard. She clearly wasn't used to people being completely unafraid of her.

"A pleasure to meet you Hancock", Romanov said in a sultry voice, despite obviously not even trying to sound as such.

John snorted.

"I'm sure it is. Especially after our last meeting. I still can't stand too close to a toaster now, or I risk smashing something to bits out of reflex, you know."

"No, I did not, though rest assured, it shall be added to your file as soon as possible."

John had no idea wether the woman was joking or not, though he wouldn't put it past S.H.I.E.L.D. to have such a file on him. Romanov's expression didn't give anything away, not even changing in the slightest, though both Banner and Steve appeared confused.

"Last meeting? Toaster? John, you two know each other?", asked Steve.

"Budapest." "Budapest.", both John and Romanov answered, though neither broke eye-contact.

Steve looked at Banner, but the doctor appeared even more lost than the soldier did, so Steve simply sighed and turned back towards the spy and the superhuman. Before he could open his mouth however, the deck lurched underneath his feet.

Steve frowned.

"Is this a submarine?"

Agent Romanov spoke up, not taking her eyes of Hancock.

"Gentlemen, you might want to step inside in a minute. It's going to be a little hard to breath up here."

"Are we diving?", Banner asked in a nervous tone.

John could understand the man's hesitation. Unleashing a monster of destruction like the Hulk in a cramped space like a submarine would almost certainly lead to massive hull-damage. At the depths a submarine could go, the pressure alone would almost certainly kill the crew.

Apparently Steve picked up on this as well, because he turned to the doctor with a friendly expression on his face.

"Don't worry Doc, Hancock will keep you restrained should you lose control of yourself.", he said with a comforting voice.

At that point, Black Widow, who had lost her staring contest with John, spoke up again.

"There's no need for that gentlemen. We're not diving. We're going up."

The three men looked to each other in confusion, until a massive shudder ran through the deck. Slowly, four massive turbines rose up out of the water, churning it madly underneath them. Faster and faster they moved up, and John couldn't help but stare as the water fell away underneath them, until they were standing in, what John realized with a start, was a cloud.

"Okay, I'll give them that much; this is awesome.", John said in a awed voice.

He glanced at Steve, who looked equally gob smacked as he did, before they turned towards Agent Romanov. The redhead was already walking away from them, probably to the briefing room, her hips swaying in a hypnotizing manner.

"Come on then gentlemen," she threw over her shoulder with a casual smirk, "the Director is waiting."

* * *

As they walked across the grey hallways deeper into the bowels of S.H.I.E.L.D. to where John suspected their command centre was, the superhuman couldn't help but notice the glances their little group got from passing agents. Steve and he usually received awed looks, but both Agent Romanov and Dr. Banner received looks of poorly concealed fear.

John frowned at this. The looks Black Widow received were understandable; the assassin had earned her reputation after all. However, the looks Dr. Banner received were uncalled for, in John's opinion. Sure, he had no reason to fear the Doctor losing his temper and being confronted with his alter ego, a luxury only very few people were privy to. But still, had these men never heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy? Banner and the Hulk were _not_ one and the same, but treating the former like a particularly unstable rabid animal was almost a guarantee for the emergence of the latter.

John snorted when a smartly dressed lady walked out of one of the hallways on their right, looked up, gave a particularly unflattering shriek upon spotting Dr. Banner, before slumping to the ground, unconscious.

Agent Romanov didn't even break her stride though, forcing the men to continue walking, or risk getting lost in the labyrinth that was the inside of the Helicarrier. John glanced at the Doctor from the corner of his eye, angered at what he saw. Bruce had not taken the fearful looks and somewhat hostile demeanor of the S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel well, hunching further in on himself with each glare. The reaction of the feinting lady had clearly taken its toll though.

Dr. Banner looked absolutely miserable. It reminded himself way too much of the state he had been in before Ray had set him straight.

Falling back a little so he walked next to the gamma scientist, John nudged the man in the shoulder. Bruce glanced up startled at the sudden contact, looking at John much in the same way a rabbit would look at approaching headlights.

"Don't let them get to you. They don't know you, they only know the Other Guy. Which means that those looks aren't really directed at _you_ but at _him_. And even then, you still got me watching your back. And Steve. And probably Nick too, though he probably won't admit it. You wouldn't be here otherwise.", John said reassuringly, trying to cheer the smaller man up.

A surprised look came across Bruce's face, before the scientist gave a small, tentative smile.

"Thank you, Hancock. I appreciate it. I really do.", the Doctor said softly.

John nodded firmly before looking ahead again, catching an approving nod from Steve out of the corner of his eye. Before John could react they finally arrived at their destination. At least, John thought this was the command station, what with the sea of screens scanning… things, he supposed.

"Welcome gentlemen. Glad you could make it."

Well, that and the ominous presence of Nick Fury turning away from the various screens and going-ons, focusing his eye on them. Next to him, Agent Coulson looked up from a report, gave a smile and a cheeky wave, before turning back to the file in his hands.

Before John could quip something, Steve quietly walked up to Fury, before grabbing a ten dollar bill out of his pocket to hand to the man. They shared a grin before Steve fell back with the rest of the group and spoke up, his voice serious and his stance that of a soldier awaiting orders.

"You sounded very urgent over the phone sir. It would appear that urgency was warranted if our debriefing was anything to go by."

Nick frowned, before stalking towards them.

"Urgent doesn't quite cover it Captain."

Having reached their little group, the Director simply pointed towards a nearby table.

"Sit."

Both Agent Romanov and Steve followed the order with the ingrained habits of soldiers, whereas Bruce obviously tried to do what he was told in order to avoid a confrontation. John though, simply looked at Fury with an expecting expression.

Fury stared back at him for several tense moments, before giving an explosive sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Please."

John grinned at the spy.

"Now, was that so hard?"

The answering glare had John in a seat within the second.

No matter how invulnerable you are, pissing of the Director of the greatest spy agency in the world was just a very dumb idea all around.

"Now that we are _all_ seated, let's continue.", Fury ground out tersely.

"Our primary objective is retrieving the Tesseract. It is far too powerful to remain in the hands of a villain. This ties in nicely with our secondary objective; the apprehension of Loki. The third objective is to free the agents under Loki's control. At the moment, the location of all objectives is unknown, though we are sweeping everything that has a camera and a satellite connection for any sightings of Loki. He shows his face somewhere, we _will_ know. Which means that we are forced to wait until he slips up, other than that, there's not much we can do from here. However, we do have the means to track our primary objective thanks to Dr. Banner here and his expertise on gamma radiation.", Fury said, inclining his head to Bruce.

The Doctor seemed relieved at the news that he had been selected for his intellect rather than for his… smashing.

"If all goes well, locating our primary objective will also lead us to the location of Loki and/or the location of the men he has under his control. Once we have Loki, we have a chance of getting our boys out from under his control, though he is believed to have made use of several unaffiliated mercenaries."

There was a small pause as everybody digested the news.

Then Steve spoke up.

"So how do we track the Tesseract? Do we have somewhere to begin looking, or –"

"I think I can shed some light on that.", a cocky voice interrupted him.

As one they turned to the entrance of the command centre, where a smartly dressed and groomed man was leaning against the doorframe, a smirk on his face. Seeing the gazes of the world's most powerful and dangerous people directed at him simultaneously, the man simply began to grin even wider.

"Tony Stark, and you're all at my service."

There was a stunned silence, before it was broken by the confused voice of Dr. Banner.

"I don't think the saying is supposed to go like that."

* * *

John leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, an amused expression on his face as he watched how Stark took over the entire meeting, completely sidelining the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. with one witty remark after the other, at one point gleefully pointing out that one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. flunkies was currently playing Galaga. It would seem he wasn't the only one who enjoyed tweaking Nick's nose.

Between the two of them, Nick had started to look the worse for wear, a muscle under his eye twitching madly, and his fingers creeping steadily towards the gun in his waistband. Coulson apparently couldn't decide between amusement because of the billionaire's antics, or dread for what actions the Director would resort to in order to put a stop to said antics.

Deciding to head off a potential bloodbath, seeing Steve getting increasingly frustrated with the man's upheaval of a serious meeting as well, John loudly cleared his throat.

Stark whirled around at the sound, peering intently at the superhuman, a grin growing on his face. John's hearing picked up the small sigh of relief from Agent Romanov when the playboy's attention shifted away from her. Hearing the muffled snort of Steve, John figured he had heard it as well.

By now, Stark was standing next to him, looking down at him with childish glee. John silently groaned and prepared for a headache. Sure, the billionaire was entertaining enough when he was harassing someone else, but when that someone else turned out to be you, the humor was quickly hard to find.

To be fair, John hadn't minded the help of Ironman when mopping up the various terrorist factions in the Middle-East, recognizing the drive for redemption in the man and respecting him for it. But up close and personal, Stark was simply too… excitable for John's tastes.

"Yes, Mr. Mystery Man? Finally decided to share your tantalizing secrets?", Stark leered down at him, fingers twitching with the need to be busy, to impose the whirling mind of Tony Stark on the world, by the creation of whatever technology the man could come up with, completely disregarding wether or not it's 50 years ahead of its time. Or even be possible in the first place.

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The elder Stark had been fascinated with him, and being part of the Scientific Strategic Reserve, had been present at some of the test performed on him. Apparently it had made an impression on the man, because for the rest of his life, Howard had begged John to let the man all but dissect him in pursuit of granting the human race the benefits of being whatever it was that Hancock was..

It appeared that the younger Stark had inherited the same inclinations, though he was more interested in weaponizing John's enormous strength. Naturally John had refused, causing a rift between the two men, though it had been somewhat mended during their stint of bringing world peace to earth.

John shifted again, before answering.

"No, I simply wanted to ask a question."

Stark simply raised his eyebrows, making a "go on" motion with his hand.

"Why are you here?"

Stark's face fell, mock-gasping and placing a hand over his hart.

"My God, if I didn't know better, than I would think that it sounds as if I am unwanted here!"

John simply inclined his head at the table behind Stark's back. The man turned around, and was met by the glares of both Steve and Agent Romanov, an irate Nick Fury, who was currently gently being manhandled by a softly murmuring Coulson in accepting a cup of coffee, and the red-faced agent who was at this moment most definitely _not_ playing Galaga.

"Ah.", Stark said, swallowing uncomfortably.

John spoke up again, hiding his smirk.

"So, what _are_ you doing here?"

Fury also added his two cents, having waved off Coulson after accepting the cup of coffee.

"I also would like an answer to that Mr. Stark. Especially since you were not, in fact, invited for this meeting."

At this Stark swelled up with pride.

"Why, I am here to help of course!"

A flat silence was his only response, causing the man to sigh in exasperation.

"And I wanted to meet Hancock.", the man admitted, muttering under his breath, though being in the presence of both superhumans and superspies, the comment was heard by all. As evident by the numerous smirks now present.

Fury simply sighed, before fixing Stark with a single-eyed glare.

"Well, now that you are here anyway, would you mind lending Dr. Banner a hand in setting up whatever it is he needs in order to track the Tesseract?"

Stark positively beamed.

"Of course!"

The man bounded over to his fellow scientist, who was looking very flustered being in close proximity to such an… excitable person.

"Just tell me what you need. I was thinking some spectrometers, by StarkTech of course, along with some generic scanners set to some wavelengths closest approaching the output of the Tesseract. Again, we are definetely using StarkTech, this shouldn't be a problem. After all, I built it."

Bruce simply opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish out of water before closing it with an audible clap.

"Erhm, yes… yes, I was, ehh thinking the same thing. But we would still need an algor-"

"Yes! An algorithm is definitely the next step, otherwise we would be stuck doing calculations for ages! Well, you would, I would probably be done this afternoon. But an algorithm should rule out a few places indeed. Well, don't just sit there, come on, we have science to do!", Stark interrupted, almost physically pulling Bruce out of his chair.

"Oh, ehh… yes, well, that is to say… what?", the flustered Doctor managed to stammer, before he was suddenly on his feet and being pushed out of the command centre.

Fury let out another sigh, before turning towards the Black Widow.

"Agent Romanov, please escort Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark to the lab."

The spy was already moving to get up out of her seat when Stark's voice floated back to them.

"No need Director, I know the way!"

Fury visibly sagged in on himself, tiredly closing his eye.

"That's what worries me."

Coulson was already at his side with another cup of coffee.

There was hung an odd sort of silence around the table after Stark had left, his personality filling so much of the room it now seemed empty without him. The lull in activity was quickly shattered though, by a shout coming from one of the agents sitting at the screens.

"Sir!"

Fury turned towards the agent, giving a nod to indicate the man could speak.

"We got a hit sir, facial recognition is 79% match!"

There was a sudden flurry of activity on deck as the information was sent to the rest of the screens, who immediately began to try and find anything more. Fury's voice cut clear through the noise however.

"Do we have a location?"

The agent turned back to his screen, rattling off the relevant information.

"Yes sir! He's in Stuttgart, Germany, 28 Köningstrasse. He's not exactly hiding sir."

Fury nodded before turning back towards the table where John and Steve were still sitting.

"Captain."

Steve stood up, his posture strict.

"Hancock."

John got to his feet as well, his face set in a serious frown. The time for joking was over. He gave Fury a sharp nod, which was acknowledged by Fury's own.

"You're up."

* * *

 **AN:** So, Coulson is awesome, and Stark arrives earlier on the scene than in canon, lured by the potential and mystery that is Hancock. Expect a chapter from his POV sometime soon. As you may or may not have noticed, I don't really like Black Widow. If you asked me why, I honestly couldn't tell you, her character just rubs me the wrong way. Don't worry, this won't turn into a bashing fic, she will simply be less gushed over than in almost every other Avengers fanfic out there.

Next time is the team's first meeting with Loki, and some characters' thoughts about their fellow characters. After we get that out of the way we can FINALLY get to the action. Until next time! :)

 **Fun Fact:** Thanks to advances in motion capture technology Mark Ruffalo got to not only play Bruce Banner, but also the majority of Hulk's part. This marks the first time Banner and the Hulk were portrayed by the same person.


	5. A Clash of Gods

**AN:** Sorry for the long wait people! I got into a sort of Warhammer 40k craze (I blame Steam Sales) and then I got such massively positive feedback on my Naruto story I spend a little more attention on that story instead of this one. On top of that, just like most of you, I am eager to get on with the fun action-filled stuff, which made finding inspiration for these parts a lot more difficult. But I managed! And this chapter has action too! 0.0

Anyway, I'll be focusing on the Naruto fic for a little while, get out two, maybe three chapters for that one, before getting back to this. Maybe there'll be an update for PotC in there, since going through my notes has given me a lot of inspiration to pick up that story again.

Little sidenote: This fic has passed 1.5k views! That is so awesome! Really, I cannot describe the feeling I had when I saw that :D You guys are awesome!

* * *

 **Chapter 5 – A clash of Gods**

John Hancock was soaring through the night sky, the wind roaring in his ears. Rain pelted him in a furious haze of water bullets, though John didn't really notice it. His attention was solely focused on his destination, which was only minutes away now, and his target. His mind had fallen into a familiar focus, the kind that he had lost a few decades after the war and had only regained when he had stopped Red Parker's attempt at a bank robbery.

He needed that kind of focus right now, because he was going into a similar situation to the failed robbery attempt. Only this time, the stakes were much higher, and the enemy far more dangerous.

They knew very little about Loki's mind control powers. The only thing they knew for sure was that, in order for Loki to take over someone's mind, he had to physically make contact with that person.

Other than that, they were in the dark. How far did his range of control extend? How much control did he have over those he had snared with his power, and did that control still exist when he wasn't there to give orders personally? What about failsafes?

All of this was bad enough on its own, but Loki had managed to make the situation even worse by showing himself in an extremely crowded area. Should this turn into a fight, and given Coulson's briefing on the god's personality, John thought it very well could, civilian casualties could become extremely high.

Which was why John was now flying towards Stuttgart at his fastest speed, far ahead of the Quinjet carrying Black Widow and Steve. Fury had decided that he didn't want to risk any civilian lives, and had ordered for John to repeat his feat with Red's goons and remove Loki from any civilian presence entirely. Steve and Black Widow were to apprehend any of Loki's helpers, both the voluntary ones and the mind-controlled.

Any crowd control they could provide would be appreciated as well.

Finally John's eyes, far superior to anything else on the planet, managed to pierce the surrounding darkness and take in the sight of Stuttgart by night. Ignoring the brightly lit city, John scanned for any sight of Loki, remembering the lay-out of the city from the brief look he had at the screen displaying the god's location, back on the Helicarrier.

There!

On a large plaza, a crowd of people had formed, each standing in a circle around a tall figure, dressed in gold and green. And who had two enormous horns growing out of his head apparently.

As John neared the figure, which by now he was positive had to be Loki, he heard the oddly dressed man talking, though the words were muffled by the howling of the wind as John flew at speeds that would make most fighter jets seem slow in comparison.

200 meters.

The figure was still talking, not having noticed John's approach...

100 meters.

Several people at the back of the crowd, who had been facing the direction John had come from, started pointing and shouting...

50 meters.

Loki started to turn around...

5 meters.

John could just see Loki's eyes widen, his mouth falling open either in shock or in preparation of a spell. John didn't care though, because now he had finally made contact with the Norse god. His hand had shot out, gripping Loki in an iron grip by the front of his weird armour/clothing.

Not stopping and risking giving the startled Prince of Lies a chance to retaliate, John continued flying at his fastest, leaving several ear-shattering sonic booms in his wake, as he started to angle up, the ground falling away underneath his feet.

After a few seconds, by which they had risen above the clouds and Loki was still looking a little out of it, John slowed down. He had underestimated the frost giant's constitution though, because Loki didn't show any signs of suffering from the sudden drop of oxygen-levels or the sudden rise in atmospheric pressure.

Instead, the villainous god fixed ice blue eyes on John in frothing rage.

"You dare! I will see you punished for this in way's your pathetic mortal mind cannot comprehend!", Loki screamed, anger dripping almost tangibly from every word.

The irate god lifted his blue glowing sceptre, the blade almost touching John's chest. Having seen what it had done to several of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best agents, John had no intention of letting the damned thing get even remotely close to him.

He quickly tossed Loki a little away and up, making the God of Tricksters flail around in shock, as he was suddenly no longer suspended several kilometres above ground-level.

Before Loki could react to his newfound airborne status, John shot forwards, shattering the sound barrier yet again, his fist cocked back.

Loki had just enough time to widen his blue eyes in fear, before John punched the god in the chest with all his might, letting out a yell of effort that was heard around the planet.

Time seemed to slow down for a second, as Loki's eyes bulged in his head, his mouth open in a silent gasp, as the clouds around them were blasted back by an invisible force. Then time picked up again, and Loki took off with a sonic boom of his own, disappearing from sight almost immediately, leaving a trail of displaced air in his wake.

John winced.

Maybe he overdid it? Honestly, the guy _did_ keep claiming he was a god; surely he could take a single punch, right?

Right?

Suddenly John's comm. unit, which Fury had _demanded_ he wear at all time during this op, crackled to life.

 _-"Boys. Is it just me... or did Loki just fly screaming past the Quinjet at supersonic speeds?"-_ , came Black Widow's incredulous voice.

On the background, John could hear Steve give a long-suffering sigh.

John winced again.

Fury was going to have his hide for this.

* * *

There was an awkward silence in the back of the Quinjet, as it flew back towards the Helicarrier. On one end of the seats lining the wall Steve was sitting with his shield resting against his knees, a thoughtful frown on his face.

After he and Agent Romanov had landed in Stuttgart, John having flown off after the airborne Loki, they had tried to apprehend Loki's henchmen. They had succeeded, but only partly. All of the goons they had managed to capture had been mercenaries, left behind by Loki's mind-controlled puppets in order to give them enough time to escape.

Which is exactly what they had proceeded to do.

Steve glanced over to the cockpit, seeing Agent Romanov sitting ramrod straight in her pilot's seat. This night had been difficult on her, because the moment they had managed to take down the last of the mercenaries, Agent Romanov had gone after the escaping mind-controlled allies of Loki. Apparently she had traced them to the roof, coming close enough to look Agent Barton in his icy blue eyes.

Right before he took off on an inswooping helicopter.

She hadn't said a word since.

Steve looked away from the silent women, instead looking at the rest of his companions.

In front of him, sitting in a sullen silence, Tony Stark sat with his arms in front of his chest, hiding the glowing arc reactor from view. The eccentric superhero, upon finding out that Steve and John had been deployed to Germany, had stormed out of the lab, suited up, and followed them. Something which Fury had protested.

 _Vehemently_.

Of course, Stark, being a Stark, didn't listen, and had sped full speed towards Germany, only to almost collide with the still flying (though no longer screaming) Loki. Upon finding out that the operation had already been completed, Stark, still in his Iron Man suit, had brought Loki into the Quinjet, all the time grumbling something about not being able to make an awesome entrance.

He too, hadn't said a word since.

In the seat next to Iron Man, slumped forward, with his hands and feet bound, was an unconscious Loki. The god's laboured breathing and involuntary winces whenever the Quinjet was hit by turbulence showed that Hancock's punch had been somewhat more powerful than had been necessary.

Looking to his left, he saw John looking guiltily at Loki, wincing alongside the god everytime the shaking of the Quinjet made the unconscious god grimace.

Feeling his eyes on him, John turned to look Steve in the eye, giving an apologetic shrug, before looking stubbornly at the noses of his shoes.

Steve sighed, before leaning his head against the cold metal wall behind him.

Sure, they had managed to keep civilian casualties to a minimum, heck, that one guy would probably even be able to get his eye back! But despite that, they had failed to accomplish too many of their other objectives to really call this night a success.

Finding Loki was supposed to lead them to either the Tesseract or the lost S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, maybe even both. Instead, the mind-controlled agents had managed to escape, still very much under Loki's control, despite the god being knocked out for now, and they still hadn't even the slightest clue where the Tesseract was right now.

Steve closed his eyes.

Hopefully, Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark would have more success, and then maybe they could-

A sudden jerk shook the entire Quinjet, making Steve knock his head painfully against the wall, and nearly making John topple out of his seat.

Iron Man sprung to his feet.

"Talk to me Jarvis!"

Before Steve could question who Jarvis was, a cultured voice spoke up from the speakers Steve assumed to be hidden in the Iron Man suit.

"Sir. There are very unusual energy readings surrounding us. I'm afraid I am unable to track a point of origin."

"Agent Romanov!?", Steve called out, not managing to yell anything else, as a, much stronger, jerk shook the jet once more, this time making the lights flicker worryingly, and rattle his brain around in his skull.

"I don't know what's going on Cap! A storm suddenly hit us out of nowhere!", the super assassin called back, hands gripping the steering... wheel? Joke? Joy-stick?

Shaking his head, trying not to unravel the mysteries of future technology right now, Steve turned a questioning look to John.

The superhuman held up his hands.

"It ain't me.", John said immediately.

"Then who-"

Before Steve could finish his question, the ramp at the end of the Quinjet was suddenly and violently ripped off, showing Steve that the outside world right now consisted of nothing but rain and thunder and lighting, raging around the Quinjet with a fury that was simply not natural.

Before Steve or John could react, a tall figure landed in the bay of the Quinjet.

"What-"

Again Steve was cut off, this time by the burly man shooting forward, and backhanding Iron Man with what appeared to be a really oversized hammer. Despite the heaviness of the suit, Iron Man was sent flying to the front of the Quinjet, crushing several seats underneath its bulk.

Steve quickly raised his shield, knowing, more than seeing, that John was next to him, tensed for a fight.

Neither had needed to bother though, because to both their surprise, the enormous man with a large flowing red cape turned towards Loki, before ripping the harness keeping the unconscious god in his seat apart with his bare hands.

Before Steve or John could overcome their shock at the blatant display of superhuman strength, the enormous blonde had swung Loki over his shoulder, and took off out of the Quinjet, disappearing in the unrelenting storm.

Steve quickly scrambled to his feet.

"Everyone okay?!", he called out, giving a relieved sigh when several affirmative grunts were given.

He saw Iron Man stalking towards the open end of the Quinjet, his open face-plate allowing Steve to see the man's pissed off expression.

"Stark! Stop! We need to think about this! We need a plan of attack!", Steve yelled, the howling winds making it difficult for them to communicate.

His mind flashed back to a few weeks ago, _'No, several decades ago'_ , where he had often had to say similar words to another Stark. As such, he almost expected Iron Man's answer.

"I have a plan, Cap.", Stark said, before his face-plate slammed down, the eye slits coming to life with a white glow.

" **Attack."**

Before Steve could retort, Iron Man had blasted off into the storm, disappearing from sight after a few meters.

John gave a snort.

"That's a really dumb plan."

Steve snorted in agreement.

John sighed and rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck as he approached the open end of the Quinjet.

"Still though, he ain't wrong. We can't let Loki escape."

Steve opened his mouth to protest, but John simply shot him a grin.

"Relax Steve, it's me we're talking about."

Then he was off with a sonic boom that rattled the battered remains of the Quinjet.

"That's what worries me.", Steve said morosely.

The supersoldier sighed, before placing his shield on his back and approaching the ruined end of the jet himself. His comm. crackled to life.

 _-"Cap, maybe you'd want to sit this one out? It'll be gods battling gods out there, after all."-_

It was delivered coolly, but without condescension. It was a brutally honest assessment of the situation according to the spy's perspective. Steve shook his head, before replying over the comm. as well.

"If there's one thing Hancock taught me, Agent Romanov, it's that even the smallest of man can hold his own against the mightiest of gods."

 _-"He taught you that?"-_ , came the surprised reply.

Steve laughed, now standing at the edge of what not five minutes ago had been the ramp of the Quinjet, the howling winds whipping at his body.

"Of course. Who do you think the small man is?"

Before Agent Romanov could reply, Steve vaulted over the edge, falling into the raging storm himself.

* * *

Tony was conflicted as he pushed his Iron Man armour to the max of what it could handle, Jarvis doing his best to keep the suit operational in the violent storm brought into existence by what Tony was pretty sure had been Thor.

The conflict in his emotions had been brought up by two reasons. Or persons, really.

Both were ghosts from his past, though one of them had existed throughout his entire life.

Then again, almost everybody alive today could say the same where Hancock was concerned.

Personally, Tony didn't have anything against the superhuman. When he had been younger and more carefree, he had even considered the alcoholic superhuman as an acceptable drinking partner.

Finally someone who he would have to put some effort in, in order to drink them under the table.

But as he grew up, and his father more and more distant, he started to resent the superhuman. At times, it had felt as if Howard Stark cared more about John Hancock than Tony Stark.

Of course, after watching the recording his father had left him, he knew this to not be true, but old and deep wounds like that took time to heal.

But when he had been younger, he didn't have the recording of his father. So he resented the man, everytime he blew his son off in order to have a talk with Hancock, trying to convince the superhuman to agree to more tests, in order to share his gifts with the rest of humanity.

Some days, Tony wondered if part of the resentment for Hancock came from the godlike being always denying his father. He was being neglected in favour of the superhuman and he wasn't even appreciative of the time Howard put into him! Or maybe he had simply hoped that if Hancock agreed, his father would finally have time to spend with him again.

Of course he knew that this was unrealistic.

Because Howard had another ghost, one which he passed over to his son.

Steve Rogers.

Captain America.

A patriot of the purest sort.

The greatest soldier to have ever lived.

Tony Stark _hated_ him.

Okay, maybe that was unfair. He was pretty sure Mr. Goodie-Two-Shoes in star-spangled spandex was a decent guy when not in the uniform, but if Howard had been bad with his fixation on John Hancock, he was even worse with his fixation on Steve Rogers.

In a way, this had been more painful than the Hancock-fiasco.

Hancock was out there. He was a tangible thing, performing heroic actions every day, no matter how destructive those heroics might be. On top of that, an entire city (at the very least) shared Tony's dislike of the superhuman. It made him feel less alone in that regard.

But he was alone in his loathing of Captain America.

Even to this day, seventy years after the man had disappeared, people still talked about Captain America, the greatest hero America ever had. There were still shows, reruns of shows, spinoffs off shows, action figures, trading cards, you name it, it had a Captain America special edition.

It angered Tony beyond belief.

Steve Rogers was _gone_. It was a sad thing, sure, and the man had done great things, no argument there, but dammit all, Tony was _here_ and Steve Rogers was _not_!

So why did his dad spend more time with Steve than with Tony?

There was also an underlying fear, which Tony had only really acknowledged in a dark, dirty cave somewhere in Afghanistan.

What would people think of _him_ after seventy years?

Would there be trading cards of him? Shows? Spinoff of those shows?

It had been partly those thoughts that spurred him into taking his Iron Man suit and turning it into a superhero, a symbol.

Because he didn't want to be remembered, almost a century after his death, as just the Merchant of Death.

But now, Steve Rogers had come back from the dead, John Hancock had gotten his act back together, and he was on a team with both of them.

Well, he would show them!

Sure, Hancock had managed to nab Loki before he could, but that was because he had been stuck inside the lab when he and Captain America had been deployed.

This time though, this time, _he_ would take in the supervillain! He would show them, he would show the world, hell, he would show his damned dad, wherever the bastard was now, that Tony Stark was just as good, no, he was even better than Steve Rogers or John Hancock!

He was brought out of his internal monologue by Jarvis alerting him to something.

"Sir, I have pinpointed the location of two heat-signatures, though one is almost as cold as our surroundings. I believe that they are our targets, sir.", the crisp voice of Jarvis said.

"Thanks Jarvis, adjust all monitors and visual receptors."

"Of course, sir."

' _Time to show these guys just what Tony Stark is made of.'_

* * *

Thor was desperately trying to get a hold of his emotions, something that if the currently raging storm roaring around him was to go by, was not going so well.

But he was _seething_.

His brother was still not conscious and his laboured breathing indicated a wound of some kind, though since he didn't see or smell blood, he assumed it to be bruising, probably extensive and deep.

Which was a worrying thought; Asgardians were very durable after all.

' _But then again, he isn't an Asgardian, is he? He is a Frost Giant, and you and your hammer can personally attest just how easily they can be slain.'_ a tiny voice whispered on the edge of his mind.

' _Be silent! His race matters not to me, he is my brother no matter his blood!'_ , Thor roared back to the voice, but couldn't shake himself of the guilt he felt.

He had slain Loki's family. He had done so, not out of righteous fury, or in order to defend his home and his people. He had done so because he wanted petty revenge for them ruining his party.

And then his brother had almost succeeded in finishing the job, after setting the Frost Giants up to ruin his party in the first place.

It was then, when Loki had admitted to his crimes with glee on his face and an unholy light of madness in his eyes, that Thor knew his little brother had been... damaged. Damaged in a very bad way, deeper than any blade could ever hope to achieve.

But he still clung to hope. Wounds of the body could be healed, wounds of the mind could be mended. His brother could be helped, he just needed to be offered that help. Something that Thor intended to do, even if it cost him his life.

He owed that to his brother at least, after taking the life of so many of his family.

He gently laid his brother on the stone ground of a ledge near a forest, keeping them out of the howling wind at least, though until he got his emotions more under control, there was very little he could do about the rain and lightning.

Straightening himself, Thor took deep, controlled breaths, finally managing to calm himself down enough that he could disperse the storm. In the ensuing silence, though, Thor's hearing picked up a whining sound.

Confused, he turned his head to his right, his eyes squinting, trying to peer through the darkness of the night.

And got slammed of the ledge for his troubles.

Thor was caught off guard, he was willing to admit, his crashing through several centuries old trees not helping alleviate his confusion. Finally the red and gold blur which had tackled him let go, leaving Thor to sail through the air and smash into the forest ground, throwing up clouds of dust and shattering the ground.

The God of Thunder quickly clambered to his feet.

A man in gold and red armour, the kind he had never seen before in any of the realms he had visited in his 2,000 years of existence, stood across the clearing from him.

The armoured man started speaking, but Thor didn't listen. His brother was alone and unconscious, in the vicinity of those that had not only captured him, but somehow managed to wound him so.

He needed to get back!

Without warning and a with mighty roar, Thor let his trusty Mjolnir fly from his hand, the mighty hammer smashing into the armoured man and carrying him deeper into the forest. Thor didn't let up, willing the mystic weapon to continue flying onwards, until the sound of smashed apart trees was too faint for even him to hear.

Thor gave a relieved sigh.

It was a cowardly thing to do, essentially running away from battle, but the wellbeing of his wounded brother was far more important than his own pride and honour.

He started roughly in the direction he thought his brother had been left behind-

SMASH!

Only for another blur to once more tackle him through several trees and creating a deep furrow in the ground.

' _Oh come on! Seriously!?'_

* * *

John didn't waste any time after he saw Stark getting sucker-punched by the little hammer that could.

Seriously.

The thing was _still_ smashing Tony through trees and the occasional mound of dirt.

He shot off to where (presumably) Thor had thrown his hammer, ruffling the trees underneath him in his wake.

Bingo!

The God of Thunder was trudging in John's direction, obviously trying to make his way back towards Loki. John didn't really begrudge him that. Loki was Thor's brother; of course he wanted him back.

But Loki was a criminal, with a long list of deaths and property damage, and needed to pay for his crimes.

So John clenched his jaw, and angled downwards, smashing through the canopy of the trees. He saw the blonde god look up startled, before they collided.

Along with several trees.

And the ground.

John cursed inside his mind.

Thor had not only been far, _far_ heavier than Loki, it was clear that Thor was a highly trained and highly skilled warrior.

Almost the moment they had collided with a crash that flattened several surrounding trees, the Norse god had braced himself, his booted feet digging into the ground, creating to deep furrows in the forest floor.

Before John could back of, Thor switched his stance, and threw John over his shoulder, making him slam into a nearby tree.

' _Damn. The guy is seriously strong. I actually felt that.'_ , John thought to himself.

He didn't feel any pain of course, as long as he didn't turn human; there simply wasn't anything capable of hurting him, but he still felt the god's grip on his shoulders and the feeling of the tree digging into his back.

John climbed to his feet, obviously surprising the other immortal, before falling into one of the guarded stances that Steve had thought him.

"I have no quarrel with you stranger! But I _must_ return to my brother! He is need of help!", Thor yelled, desperation clear in his voice.

John felt for the guy, but it didn't erase Loki's sins. On top of that, Loki still had information they needed, like the location of the Tesseract, or the agents under his control.

So he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but we need to take him in! He has committed several crimes and killed a lot of people. We need him if we're gonna save a lot more.", John said, trying to appear non-threatening, while still keeping up his stance.

It obviously didn't work as well as he had hoped, since Thor got into a combat stance of his own.

"I do not wish to fight you stranger, but I _must_ bring my brother aid. Once he is healed, I am sure he will turn himself over to those in charge.", Thor said, his expression open and his tone honest.

' _He's serious. He actually thinks that if Loki escapes and heals up, he'll turn himself in.'_

"Not gonna happen, Thor. Now, stand down!", John yelled back, hoping to avoid a fight.

They had destroyed enough forest already, and he really didn't want any more angry letters from Germany.

Honestly, all six pieces of Berlin had been brought back together again and repaired, but they were _still_ going on about that!

However, it didn't look like a fight could be avoided.

"NO! I will not stand down! My brother needs me!", Thor yelled back, desperation starting to make way for anger.

"Stand down!", John tried again.

"NO!", Thor roared, his stance moving to an offensive one.

"Stand down, or I swear to god, I'll do the same to you as I did to Loki!", John yelled frustrated, at the end of his rope by now.

A sudden silence fell across the clearing, surprising John, who had expected to be socked in the jaw right about now.

"It was you? You did that to him?", Thor asked in a soft voice.

Seeing no use in denying the truth, John shrugged and nodded.

"Yeah, so?"

"Thank you for telling me.", Thor said, still in that soft voice.

John tilted his head in surprise. He hadn't expected to be thanked for beating up the god's (adoptive) brother.

"Now I can feel justified...", Thor said as he stalked towards John.

"IN NOT HOLDING BACK!"

Before John could react, or even form the barest of guards, Thor had exploded into motion. It took the Thunder God less than a second to burst across the rest of the clearing, swinging his right hook with all his strength.

Right as the fist collided with his face, John had a weirdly lucid thought.

' _Ahh, there's the "socking in the jaw part".'_

Then all further thought was cut off as he was lifted off his feet and blasted several meters backwards. He managed to land on his feet, but had to immediately bring his guard up, as Thor had not been idle.

Powerful blows started to rain down on John, all finding their mark, and most of them managing to bypass his guard. None of them truly hurt, but each one rattled his bones. Having had enough of being turned into a punching bag, John shifted his weight backwards, making Thor overextend on one of his punches, before turning back in, his fist shooting out in a picture-perfect liver shot.

John had expected for Thor to be thrown across the clearing, or lifted off his feet at least, but the God of Thunder was merely shoved a few meters backwards, letting out wheeze and clutching his side.

Seeking to take advantage of the winded god, John jumped forwards, managing to get a few blows of his own in, each fist that connected creating a sound like a thunderclap. Thor, however, was obviously a great warrior amongst his people, since even winded, he managed a decent guard against Hancock.

Taking a deep breath of air, Thor managed to get his head back into the game, and started going on the offensive himself once again. Both immortals were now furiously trading blows, each punch creating a thunderous noise, each kick displacing the air in gales of wind.

Both were throwing each other around, through the trees and into the grounds without mercy. Within a minute, that part of the forest had been turned into less than kindling, the ground littered with pockmarks, furrows and deep craters.

Finally John managed to score a decent hit when Thor lost his footing due to one of those craters. The two combatants had separated for several meters and Thor's stumbling had created an opening in his guard. Knowing Thor, the opening would be automatically corrected within seconds.

John needed less than one.

The immortal shot forwards, his fist cocked back.

' _I_ _ **did**_ _tell him that I'd do to him what I did to Loki.'_

He saw in Thor's eyes that the god had remembered those words as well, arms desperately moving up to protect his chest.

He was too late.

A thunderous boom resounded amongst the entire forest, as John's fist connected with Thor's chest.

Like his brother, Thor shot backwards like a cannonball.

Unlike his brother, Thor wasn't several kilometres above sea-level.

Over and over, the god crashed into trees and the like, before finally, after almost half a minute, Thor slammed into the rock formation on the edge of the forest.

John, not willing to let such a dangerous opponent out of his sight, quickly followed.

When he arrived, Thor was just busy extracting himself from the rock, a murderous expression on his face, the clouds growing bigger and darker above them.

John internally groaned.

Thor was incredibly strong and an amazing hand-to-hand combatant. While John didn't feel pain, his body _was_ becoming rather sore.

An unusual sensation for the superhuman.

"Need a hand John?!"

Both immortal's heads snapped up to a ledge of the rock formation, several meters above them.

Standing there, with his iconic shield on one arm, and a glaring and bound Loki under the other, Steve stood in all his glory.

John couldn't help but grin.

He could always trust Steve to have his back.

Thor didn't react so positively though.

"My brother! Unhand him!", the god roared, the clouds growing even more ominous, and the wind started picking back up.

Loki appeared like he wanted to say something, but with Steve's large hand clamping down on his narrow shoulder, he obviously thought the better of it. Steve answered the irate god.

"I cannot do that sir. Your brother is in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody right now, due to numerous crimes and-"

Thor didn't listen to Steve's explanation though.

"I care not! I seems I underestimated you stranger.", Thor spat to John, before lifting his arm.

"Mjolnir to me!"

Only John's superb hearing, and the fact he had seen the hammer in action not ten minutes before, allowed him to duck, letting the mystic hammer soar inches over his head.

Had he been any slower, it'd have nailed him right in the kidneys.

Before John could really voice his displeasure at such dirty tactics, a shout of alarm of Steve made him look up. Thor had caught Mjolnir and had jumped high, lifting the hammer above his head, and lightning crackling around the head.

John inwardly cursed.

There was no time to dodge. And if he tried to raise a guard, it probably wouldn't be strong enough to take the punishment a mythical hammer, wreathed in lightning, and wielded by an angry warrior god.

Time slowed down again, allowing John to see almost every individual spark of lightning, every individual strand of hair from Thor's head, see how the scales of the god's armour moved smoothly in concert.

See how the ornate head of Mjolnir inched its way towards his skull.

"CATCH!"

Time sped up again as a circular slab of metal shot in front of John. Without really thinking about it, the superhuman shot out his hand, slipped it through the straps, and lifted what he now realized was Steve's shield.

 _BOOOM_

The sound of Mjolnir hitting Steve's shield deafened John for a second. As the ringing in his head started to die down, he chanced a peak over the edge of the shield, only to feel his jaw drop.

There was no forest anymore.

Well, at least not in a radius of almost 50 meters anyway.

Evidently, a mystic hammer meeting a vibranium shield led to some... interesting results.

Hearing a groan, John lifted the shield again, only to lower it when he saw who had made the sound.

Whatever force had flattened the surrounding area had also hit Thor, and had blasted the god back into the crater he had made in the side of the rock. He looked around very confused and in no condition to get out of the hole on his own power.

Seeing the hammer lying halfway between them, John quickly walked forward and slid his hand around the handle.

The leather was smooth and the grip was solid. John expected such a large and solid object to be heavy, but when he lifted it, it seemed like it was almost weightless.

Marvelling at the craftsmanship of the hammer for a few moments, John shook his head and walked towards Thor.

Stopping in front of the defeated god, shield still on his right arm, John spread his feet apart and pointed Mjolnir at the other immortal.

Thor looked up at John, obviously wanting to reply, but never getting the chance. The god's mouth dropped open, his eyes almost falling out of his head. He looked from the hammer to John to the hammer to John to the hammer again.

He raised a shaking finger accusingly at John, mouth opening and closing several times.

"You... How did you... Mjolnir... What?"

Then Thor fainted.

John stood in stunned silence, feeling rather silly now, standing over an unconscious man with a shield and hammer. The silence was broken though by a manic laughing.

John looked up at the ledge of the rock formation, seeing Steve climbing shakily back to his feet.

Next to him, on his knees and gripping his sides, Loki was howling with laughter.

After a few moments, the laughter finally lessened enough for the god to wipe away tears from his eyes and look back at John.

"What?! What the hell is so damn funny, huh?!", John yelled loudly, shaking his arms, still holding the hammer and shield, for emphasis.

Renewed laughter was his answer.

* * *

 **AN:** So, a little bit of angst there with Thor, and more than just a little bit with Tony. I think Tony is a really interesting, if sometimes annoying, character. Even in the comics, he hasn't always been that firmly on the side of the good guys. With the upcoming Civil War film and the conflict between Tony and Cap still in mind, I started to focus a lot more on the confrontation and interactions between the two in the Avengers movie(s). I read a lot about it on tvtropes, which explains this in detail, and I guess it just started from there. Though Tony did most of the work writing his part, so blame him.

As for Thor, well. I'm gonna be honest, that came out of nowhere. I had written that inner thought of his on my laptop, looked at it on my screen and just thought: _"Where the hell did that come from."_ But then I thought that it's a pretty good internal conflict for Thor so I ran with it.

 **Fun Fact:** In the movies, Tony quickly admits to being Iron Man. In the comics however, he didn't do so for a very long time. Instead, he made the world believe that Iron Man was simply his bodyguard that he had hired. Due to sometimes being seen in the same place together, almost nobody pieced together that they were in fact one and the same.


	6. Revelations

**AN:** Thanks for all the reviews and favorites and likes you guys! You're awesome!

In this chapter, we will _finally_ find out where John and Mary came from. Now be warned; most of the information here came from the marvel database wiki, and I think it's a little bit obscure (I had never heard of it, but then again, I'm not really an expert on Marvel comics.) However, that being said, my origin story not only ties Hancock in with the MU, it will also allow me to bring in the Kree and the Inhumans; both already known in the McU due to Marvel Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Among other interesting characters from space.

I don't want to spoil anything, so some general explanations will be given in the AN at the end of the chapter. (saves you guys a trip to the wiki, at least.)

If you still have questions after that, feel free to either review or pm, I'll try to clarify everything as much as I can.

* * *

 **Chapter 6 – Revelations**

Thor awoke with a groan. His body felt sore all over, something that Thor only remembered from his childhood days, when his father would test him and his brother in hand-to-hand combat.

That thought brought him back to full consciousness immediately.

' _My brother!'_

Thor sat up with a snap, only to groan again as the room started spinning. A voice to his left spoke up in soothing tones, while the Thunder God felt two small hands pushing on his chest, gently forcing him to lie back down again. Seeing as the room was still spinning madly out of control, Thor didn't really mind obliging the female voice.

"Easy there big guy. You took quite a beating out there."

That almost made him shoot back up again, shouting in indignant rage. Him? Taken a beating? By his father's beard, that was preposterous! It was he, who gave others a beating!

Sadly, as he tried to give voice to these thoughts, the woman's statement showed itself to be true; only a pitiful groan escaped him.

The woman, probably a healer of some kind, apparently got his meaning though, because Thor heard good-natured chuckling.

"You may not like it, but it's true. Don't beat yourself up too much about it, though. _Everyone_ that goes up against Hancock gets a beating. Well, maybe the Hulk wouldn't, but in the interest of _not_ breaking the planet in half, let's hope those two don't ever duke it out, shall we?"

Thor didn't really register all the voice had said, his mind snagging on a single word. _Hancock_. The moment the woman had said the name, Thor's memories flashed before his eyes.

Him saving his brother, only to be tackled by a strangely armoured man. Dishonourably running away from a fight, by sending Mjolnir to carry his enemy away from the battle, and his brother. Making his way back to Loki, only to be tackled once again, this time by a dark-skinned man, wearing a black suit with yellow highlights and dark eyewear.

And the fight that followed.

Trading punches and kicks, that connected with the sound of thunder. Grappling with the might to shatter boulders, throwing each other trough trees and into the ground.

And the finale.

Him having recalled Mjolnir. His opponent catching his allies' shield. Even as he brought down his mighty weapon, wreathing it in his power, his adversary raised the circular shield.

Then a bright flash, a thunderous noise, and pain, all over his body.

Only to look up and see his opponent training Mjolnir on him, holding it with apparent ease.

It all fell into place, like a puzzle that was thrown out of his box, and magically rearranged itself in mid-air, in order to fall on the floor already in one piece.

He hadn't recognized his opponent at first, not in the darkness of the night and the shade of the forest. Not to mention the unfamiliar outfit. Or the fact that his mind was filled with worry for his injured and unconscious brother.

But now that he thought back to the fight, he remembered some of his enemy's fighting style. He didn't use it consistently, only at times when Thor got the drop on him, and his adversary reacted instinctually.

He also remembered the feeling of the storm, as it raged around them during their fight. He had been angry enough to call forth a storm, yes, and he had been unfocused enough to not be able to keep it fully under his control, as much as a storm can be controlled that is.

But it wasn't all him. His opponent, somehow, had also called forth a storm, or perhaps a hurricane was a better description.

But the most important clue, from which Thor managed to find the other ones, were gained from the very end of the fight. In fact, the fight had practically ended at that point.

It was the fact that his opponent _had lifted Mjolnir_.

Thor knew that the beings that could lift his hammer could be counted on one hand, and of those beings, he and his father already filled two spots.

Which left very few candidates indeed.

Some of them were either simply too distinctive too not recognize, others would be so powerful, or so evil, their mere presence would mean the end of Midgard.

But there was one other.

One who could lift his hammer, but who would be able to walk amongst Man, or Asgardian, unnoticed. One who could match him, not only blow for blow, but storm for storm as well.

Finally, Thor knew who he had fought in that forest.

Leaping to his feet, ignoring the shouted protests of the woman who had greeted him into consciousness and his own dizziness, Thor bellowed out the name of his adversary, hope and awe roaring back to life inside his chest.

"ASTARTES!"

* * *

John Hancock was not a happy man. No sir, he was most definitely not. The cause of his unhappiness was lying innocently in front of him on the table, mocking him with its words. John sat glaring morosely at the offending object, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists.

' _Damn those Germans and their effective postal services!'_

Indeed, the current bane of John Hancock's existence was a letter. But not just any letter, no, this one came directly from the ruling body of Germany, delivered to him mere hours after his team had returned to the Helicarrier, with two Gods in tow.

' _And how the hell did they manage to find out so quickly anyway?'_ , John grumbled to himself.

Ignoring Fury's and Steve's snickering solely by force of will, John reread the letter, despite almost knowing it by heart by now.

"So, how much do you owe them this time?", Steve asked with a grin on his face as he seated himself next to John at the table where only a few hours ago they had had their debriefing by Fury.

John sighed deeply, before replying in a frustrated tone of voice.

"276,4 million euro's. I don't even want to know what that is in dollars."

Steve let out an impressed whistle, as he leaned over so he could look at the letter in John's hand.

"Why are those things so damn expensive anyway?", John moaned.

All he got was an uncaring shrug in answer.

"My guess is that it only gets really expensive when you destroy almost the _entirety_ of the forest."

John grumbled, but couldn't really find anything to say that could refute the supersoldier's words.

He hadn't really noticed it during his fight with Thor (and wasn't that a sobering thought; he had actually fought an honest to God... well god, he supposed.), but during their scuffle, a storm had started to rage around them, ripping apart the forest in a diameter almost a kilometre wide.

It was similar to his fight with Mary in L.A., only on a larger and more violent scale.

And with more lightning.

Way, _way_ more lightning.

From reports from Steve and Black Widow, as well as the recording equipment aboard the Quinjet, it had looked rather impressive, if not extremely dangerous.

The localised hurricane had followed the fight between him and Thor, only really dissipating when he had punched Thor into the rocky ledge lining one edge of the forest. Not that it had really mattered, since the bit of forest that _did_ survive was then... annihilated by the result of Mjolnir hitting Steve's vibranium shield.

Which was something S.H.I.E.L.D.'s techies (and Stark) were still salivating about. Steve had almost been forced to use physical means to convince the lab guys that, no, his shield wasn't available for study and that no, he wouldn't part with it for even a second.

Of course, Tony Stark had been the most persistent, and the most difficult to dissuade.

John didn't really need to worry about the overzealous scientists wanting to study Mjolnir though; seeing as it wasn't really his to begin with, he simply handed the thing over to Stark.

Only to see the man immediately crash down due to the apparent weight of the hammer.

It quickly became clear that John was the only one currently on the Helicarrier that could lift the damn thing. Luckily, S.H.I.E.L.D. had some experience with the hammer, and reassured Steve and John that the Helicarrier would be able to remain in the sky despite the seemingly humongous weight of the mystic weapon.

Apparently, physics didn't work on Norse Gods and their tools.

Who knew?

Right now, John was using the legendary hammer as a literal paperweight, keeping several more envelopes with German writing on them from flying away, all the time pretending to not notice the glances the damn thing kept getting from nearly everybody on deck.

John sighed once more, scrubbing a hand against his face, debating wether or not he would be able to go for a nap.

At that moment, a S.H.I.E.L.D. flunkie, clearly distressed, hurried to where Fury was standing.

' _Apparently not.'_

"Sir!"

Fury turned away from his screen through which he had been observing a dazed Loki receiving medical attention. Glancing at the agent, Fury only raised a single eyebrow, obviously wondering what was so dire that one of his agents broke any form of composure.

"Thor has woken up sir."

"Thank you for informing me agent. Now, do you want to explain to me why you felt that this news warranted you running from the medical bay to the command deck to tell me this personally?", Fury asked coolly, his tone flat and emotionless, though still managing to inflict a sense of impatience.

The agent audibly gulped, before giving a sharp nod.

"Sir, he's... he's not really cooperative sir."

This made Fury, Steve and John tense up, his hand already inching towards Mjolnir.

What? It was a badass weapon.

"Where is he now and what has he done?", Fury thundered, his attention focused on the agent in front of him, though John had seen the flicker of the Director's eye towards the screen displaying Loki.

It made sense, John supposed.

If Thor was being violent and broke free from the medical bay, his first destination would probably the holding cell of his brother.

Which was a problem for multiple reasons.

The most obvious, of course, was the fact that they _really_ didn't want Loki to be sprung free, not now, and maybe not ever.

The more pressing concern however, was a little more... silly.

Thor had absolutely no idea where the holding cell keeping Loki prisoner even _was_.

Which meant that the irate Thunder God would almost certainly destroy a large part of the Helicarrier and injure a lot of its personnel in search of where his brother was being kept.

And thanks to the Helicarrier's internal make-up, he would be tricked in making several wrong turns for a _long_ while.

The agents answer made them all relax though, but more due to be too confused to keep their guard up.

"He's still in his room sir, and he hasn't really outright attacked our men yet."

Fury frowned in confusion.

"Then what's all the commotion about?"

The agent gulped once more.

"He's asking for Hancock sir. _Only_ Hancock."

* * *

John stalked towards the medical bay where they kept Thor contained for now, an agent leading the way, Steve and Fury on his heels. In his hand he held Mjolnir, the weight oddly comforting.

Fury had at first protested against John taking the god's weapon anywhere near him, fearing that Thor would either be enraged at someone else handling his weapon, or trying and succeeding in retrieving it.

Or that he'd do both.

John didn't really worry about that though. In unarmed combat, he and Thor were somewhat equally matched, Thor's skill competing against John's greater endurance and durability.

However, with Mjolnir in hand, there was no contest.

John wasn't an idiot (though many in L.A. would claim otherwise), and while knowing that he could hold his own against an actual _god_ was an enormous ego-boost, he had no illusions about how the fight could've gone, had Thor been armed and prepared for him.

Mjolnir really was a badass weapon.

And currently, _he_ was wielding it.

So it was without any concern at all that John walked towards the medical bay, assured that, should a fight break out, he would come out on top.

The Helicarrier on the other hand...

Maybe Fury had a point about not bringing the immensely powerful weapon to the immensely powerful god.

Before John could really rethink his decision in earnest, they had reached the room where Thor currently resided. The door was still opened and the Thunder God could be seen sitting on the hospital bed, golden head resting on a massive fist.

Not really knowing what to do, John simply cleared his throat and, raising Mjolnir, gently tapped the hammer against the metal of the doorframe in an imitation of knocking.

 _CRASH!_

John whipped his head around, mouth falling open as he looked at the doorframe.

Or, more accurately where the doorframe used to be.

He had either underestimated his own strength, or that of Mjolnir, because the hammer had buried itself almost up to the handle into the wall.

John glanced over his shoulder at Fury, who was looking absolutely murderous, before attempting to discreetly extract the mythical weapon from the wall.

Only to fail miserably on the 'discreetly' part.

With a loud screech of metal being torn apart, the hammer came free, falling harmlessly to the floor with a dull 'thud'.

Looking over his shoulder again, John saw that Fury had turned an alarming shade of red, despite his skin colour.

Steve was simply rolling his eyes.

"Hancock.", Fury began, his voice barely able to contain the sheer rage the Director felt.

"Yes Nick?"

"I have changed my mind."

"Really Nick?"

"Really."

"About what Nick?"

"That perhaps it's better to give the hammer back to Thor after all. Because at this point, I'm _convinced_ that no matter what he decides to do with it, it would still be less destructive to _my_ property than letting you keep the damned thing."

"... Fair enough Nick."

Meanwhile, during all of this, Thor hadn't stopped looking straight at John, which started to make him uncomfortable as he turned back towards the God of Thunder.

"So. What did you want to talk about?", John asked in an uncomfortable tone.

Apparently this snapped Thor out of his daze. The god jumped off the bed and approached John with an enormous smile on his face.

"My apologies Astartes, but I was simply overwhelmed. It is not every day after all, that one meets a living legend.", the God of Thunder exclaimed, his voice easily filling the room.

John winced at the volume, before he actually registered what the Norse god had just said.

"Wait what? What did you call me?"

Thor looked confused at the question, before examining John worryingly.

"Astartes. That is your name, is it not?"

There hung an absolute silence in the room, drowning out all the continuous little sounds that one always finds on a large military vessel.

"It's... ahem. It's John, actually. John Hancock.", John answered weakly.

His name.

He had searched for his name for so long. For almost seventy years, he had searched for any information at all, eventually just giving it up as a lost cause. Then, four years ago, he had uncovered some through Mary, but by then, John Hancock had become his name, and he simply... forgot, to ask her his original one.

And now, someone he had never met, just threw his name, a piece of he was, who he had been, straight in his face, with a casual greeting.

Apparently sensing that John's mind and emotions were in turmoil right now, Thor placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you need to sit down, Astartes? You look... distressed."

Ignoring the name for now, John just nodded numbly, sitting down on the bed Thor had occupied not moments ago. He suddenly felt the bed shift as a weight settled down next to him. Turning his head, John saw Steve sitting on the bed as well, hands crossed over his chest and his shield on his back.

Feeling his eyes on him, Steve turned his head slightly, looking John in the eye, before giving a firm nod. He then returned his gaze to Thor, where it remained fixed on the god's face. John gave a half smile, inwardly thanking Steve for his silent support.

Seeing that he had caused some great upheaval, Thor took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest, and pointedly turning his back towards Mjolnir, which was still lying on the ground. It was clear that the god was trying to come across non-threatening.

Which might have worked, were it not for the fact that his head nearly brushed the ceiling.

"I must confess that I do not understand. Why have you taken a new name, Astartes? And why does hearing your old one trouble you so?", Thor asked, unease spreading over his face.

It was clear that when Thor had asked for John, he hadn't expected this.

John took a steadying breath, before answering the god.

"Because I didn't know my old name. I haven't known for almost seventy years now."

Thor gasped in surprise.

"But, how can this be?!", the Norse god spluttered indignantly.

Which surprised the others present. Sure, it was a terrible thing, what happened to John, especially after getting the full story out of Mary. But it was still a weird reaction to have, wether Thor had known John or not.

It almost looked as if Thor simply couldn't believe that John could forget who he was.

"John was gravely injured and lost all of his memory. When he woke up in the hospital, he didn't know who he was and took the name John Hancock.", Steve asked, his curious eyes not leaving those of Thor.

"But... but... you're Astartes! You are the greatest amongst all Guardians! What kind of terrible foe could wound you so gravely as to make you forget who you are?!", Thor asked desperately.

"Wait, Guardians? What the hell are you talking about?", John asked annoyed.

Here was one of the only persons who could finally tell him who he had been and where he came from, and it looked like the god couldn't even wrap his head around the fact that John suffered from amnesia in the first place!

"Maybe it'd be better if we start from the beginning.", Fury's commanding voice cut through his thoughts, silencing the room once more.

Seeing he had everybody's attention, Fury turned to John.

"John, you start. I have a feeling his story is going to be considerably longer, so let's get yours out of the way first."

John glanced at Steve, who gave him an encouraging nod, before looking at Thor. The god looked almost desperate, clearly not understanding what was going on, but definitely wanting to.

John could sympathize.

So, after a deep breath, he started talking.

* * *

With mounting horror, Thor listened to Astartes' story. To lose one's memory, one's entire identity, by such a lowly act as well...

It made the Thunder God's blood boil.

When Astartes told him how his energy signature and DNA were used in an experiment that created the man next to him, Thor appraised the blue and red dressed man with a critical eye.

The man was practically a progeny of Astartes, and as such, was worthy of respect. A sentiment only reinforced when the Guardian told of a terrible war that spanned the world, him and his successor fighting a terrible foe.

Only for the progeny to be lost to the ice and seas.

' _By the All-Father, do the Fates have no mercy for this man?'_ , Thor thought to himself in a mix of sadness and indignation.

But, sadly, he knew that the Fates did not have mercy for _anyone_. Indeed, most of the time, they could be, and had been, considered cruel.

As was evident from the rest of Astartes tale. Thor almost wept when the Guardian recounted how, without purpose or answers, he slowly declined down a destructive path, eventually becoming nothing more than a super powered drunkard.

But there was hope. Ray Embrey, a man Thor resolved to insist be brought straight to the halls of Valhalla upon his death, had dragged Astartes from his downwards spiral and had shown him the light again, given him purpose.

That light had almost been snuffed out, through ignorance on Astartes's part, and foolish hope from Marianna's side. However, Astartes had persevered, and had in a mere four years rid Midgard of war and crime, while the Midgardian Embrey was currently battling (and winning) against famine.

Something the elders had not foreseen to happen for another thousand years at the very least.

Though Heimdall's knowing smiles whenever he had heard such a claim made a lot more sense now.

"- and then Nick here called me and Steve in, because of what your brother had done.", Astartes finished, looking as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Thor nodded, before speaking for the first time since the Guardian had spoken.

"Truly, your tale is one of hardship and redemption. It only shows once more why you were my hero as a child.", Thor said proudly, flashing the stunned Astartes an encouraging grin.

"I'm your hero?" "He's older than you?!"

Turning towards the supersoldier, Thor answered with humour in his voice.

"Indeed he is. By many millennia in fact. Astartes was already a warrior of legend when I was but a babe."

Turning towards the Guardian, and secretly laughing at the progeny's flabbergasted expression, Thor addressed Astartes.

"And you were indeed my hero. You still are. Your skills as a warrior were known and feared across the Realms, and given the similarity in our powers, I have always felt a kinship between us."

Suddenly blushing, Thor looked down at his hands, foot scuffing the floor in an embarrassed motion.

"Of course, I understand if that is too forward for you, after all, you have never met me before and I-"

"No no. It's fine. I'm honoured really.", Astartes interrupted him, an incredulous expression on his face, though Thor saw a twinkle of bemusement in the Guardian's eye.

"I still can't believe John is that much older than you!", the supersoldier spoke up, bafflement clear in his voice.

Thor frowned.

"Perhaps it is for the best then that I start my own tale?"

Seeing the other occupants of the room, including Fury who still hadn't spoken, nod their assent, Thor began. History had always been his weak point, one of the many things he now realized his brother had effortlessly bested him in, but when it came to the legend of the Guardians, not even Loki could match him in knowledge.

"My story starts long before I, or even my father was born. It starts a million years ago, when Man was still young. Because then the Celestials came to Earth. These armoured godlike beings came from space, having travelled across many worlds, all of them still carrying their mark to this day.

Their greatest strength was their mastery over life. They possessed an understanding and control over genetics that even Asgard cannot hope to match, and indeed there is a possibility it never will.

With this knowledge of genetics, they took the human race and... changed it. They created two new species. There were the Deviants, genetically so unstable that in many cases, the children didn't even remotely resemble their parents anymore. They have generally faded into obscurity and I honestly cannot tell you if they still exist, though knowing the Celestials, they wouldn't allow one of their projects to fade out of existence just like that.

And then there were the Eternals, considered by many to be among the greatest creations of the Celestials, though only they know if they think so as well. Many among the Eternals could pass as a human, but they couldn't be more different. They were fuelled with cosmic powers, and lived long lives. They eventually became immortal after their leader had a monumental accident when experimenting with the source of their powers.

We nearly went to war with the Celestials for experimenting on the human race, but when united they were too powerful for even the might of Asgard to destroy. The only forces that could stand against them are such vast and powerful beings they either would not care for your plight, or simply erase this universe because it would be the easiest thing to do.

So instead we watched. We watched as the regular human race, beginning its first civilisations, started to worship the Eternals as gods. My people thought about interfering, but decided against it. After all, compared to the humans, the Eternals were just as much gods as we were.

Then, close to three thousand years ago, my grandfather went to war. The Jotun of Jotunheim had invaded Midgard, which was forbidden by ancient laws. Aiding him, were a small group of Eternals. They had fought alongside my grandfather several times before, and amongst them was the most powerful and honourable of all Eternals.

Astartes, known to the Midgardian's by many other names, including Zeus and my own, led this small group of Eternals against the Jotun and crushed them. Wanting to thank his ally and close friend, Bor, my grandfather said that he would grant him one wish, be it in his power to grant it.

Astartes and his fellows asked for mortality. They had grown weary of their immortal lives, living to see their mortal lovers and friends grow old and wither away, while they remained. Amongst their own kind they found no sympathy, for the Eternals were often plagued by infighting, with their own kin or with the Deviants. They cared not for the race of Man.

So they asked of Bor for a way out, to be with their mortal companions and live and love and grow old and eventually die with them. It is said my grandfather wept then, knowing he would lose his friends to time, long before he would take his last breath.

But he granted them their wish. Using unknown means he bonded each Eternal with their partner, be they lovers or family, while the mortal lovers of the Eternals were elevated to their level as well. Then, using powerful and ancient magic, he made it so that, when they were near their other half, they would become mortal.

This was done, so that these Eternals, who cared so much about their human cousins they wished to live and die amongst them, may retain their power, so they may defend mankind when it needed to be saved from powers it could not face alone.

For that reason, they called themselves the Guardians of Gaia, protectors of the human race.

But there are consequences for interfering with that which is of the Celestials. We don't know how they found out, but find out they did, and a mere year after the Guardians were formed, the Celestials descended upon Midgard, threatening to reduce it to less than ash, should Bor not come forward.

Not wishing for these space gods to destroy Midgard and his friends along with it, Bor went to speak with the Celestials alone, leaving his personal guard behind on the Bifrost. Nobody knows what was said then, except for the Celestials, and it is unlikely they will ever tell. But my grandfather had managed a compromise; The Guardians would be allowed to remain as they were changed by his magic, on the condition that their memories would be wiped.

Any information about any of the Realms, about their fellow Eternals, even about the Celestials who had made them, was to be hidden away from them. Their brethren were sworn to not seek out, or have contact with, the Guardians, forcing them to go into hiding, lest they accidentally incur the wrath of the Celestials.

My people were tasked with keeping Midgard off-limits to the other Realms until Midgard was deemed ready. It was a duty we had already taken upon us, so we readily agreed. I do not know when the Celestials would deem Midgard ready for the knowledge about the other Realms, but the fact that my father banished me here makes me think that they have deemed it to be so nonetheless.

For all his faults and power, my father would not challenge the Celestials, not even in order to punish me.

So we retreated and watched once more, as steadily, two by two, the Guardians and their families began to die off. Their long time amongst the short-lived humans and the mindwipe by the Celestials made them forget their original purpose as the Guardians of Gaia, and indeed the name itself faded into obscurity, as there was no need for them to protect humanity, save maybe, from itself.

But there was always one, which did not forget. He had no memories of his time in the great city of the Eternals, or the brutal crusades against the Deviants. He did not remember the times he had fought alongside his friend Bor, King of Asgard.

But he remembered his dedication to the humans. He never lost his will to protect humanity, from anything that would bring it harm.

He remained, to this day, a Guardian of Gaia."

* * *

 **AN:** So, there you have it people, John Hancock is actually Astartes of the Eternals, a race of cosmic powered superhumans created by the near-omnipotent space gods the Celestials. To those of you who don't know who the Celestials are, they are one of the oldest races in the universe. They are immensly huge. How huge you ask? Well, remember in Guardians of the Galaxy, where they fly into the gigantic skull, floating aroung in space? Yes? Well, that's the head of a smallish Celestial. So their threat to destroy either Midgard or Asgard (or both) is a credible threat. They are also responsible for the creation of several dominant Marvel species, like the Skrull and the Kree, probably a bit better known to you guys.

As for John's name, everybody, except for Thor and Loki at first, will still keep calling him John. But when I started writing this, I realized that John had to have had a name, right? After all John Hancock is literally just something the nurse asked of him when he woke up. But we never learn it in the movie, which is kind of odd. When you finally find the answers you have searched for for almost seventy years, you kinda want them, right? Who know, maybe it happened off screen (probably not, since Hancock was probably busy on the moon, though beats me where he got all that paint from.) but that still left me without a name.

For those of you that recognize it, yes I took it from Warhammer 40k.

For those of you that don't recognize it, I took it from Warhammer 40k.

More specifically, from Adeptus Astartes, the "scientific" name for a Space Marine. I was thinking about names and this one stuck. Let me know what you think.

I get that this AN is getting ridiculously long, but John's origin story was one of the first idea's that I had regarding this fic. This chapter is essentially what I have been working towards since chapter 1, so I'm really excited about it. Let me know what you think! :D

 **Fun Fact:** I actually wrote whole pages full of possible ways to enter the Kree and the Inhumans into the story, using the connection between the Celestials and Hancock, months before they were introduced in Marvel Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Who knows, maybe someone at Marvel managed a peek in my notebook :P


	7. Conflict and Conversation

**AN:** So, apologies for the long wait, if you want an excuse, it's probably on my profilepage, or otherwise in the AN's to my other stories. I have made a start on chapters for MotC and CoW, so when tthe next update does come, expect one for either of those. Or a random one for Rowling's Advocate if the plotbunnies stage another attack.

Btw, I saw Civil War yesterday and it was AWESOME. 10/10 ^^

 **[Edit: 09-05-2016]** Sorry guys, I only just saw that for some reason I uploaded the rough version of this chapter. It's fixed now, mostly a couple of cosmetic changes, nothing too major, it just bugged me when I saw that this wasn't the proper chapter. Sorry if I made you come here with expectations for a new chapter, that will be a couple of days/weeks off, depending on how much I'll write.

* * *

 **Chapter 7 – Conflict and Conversation**

John stared out at the ocean through the large windows lining the command centre of the Helicarrier, a phone idly twirling in his hand. However, he didn't see anything of the world as it passed underneath his feet, his mind turned inwards.

' _I'm a million years old?'_

John still couldn't really wrap his head around Thor's revelations, despite having had a couple of minutes to himself. To learn you were created by omnipotent space gods before human civilisation had even really kicked off was… well, mind-blowing didn't quite cover it.

He felt as if he woke up in that hospital 70 years ago all over again. So much that he had forgotten. So much that had been taken from him. When Mary told him about their history together, it was a punch to the gut to realise he couldn't remember 3,000 years of his life. Now he had learned that another several thousands of years had been erased from his mind.

' _Because apparently I asked Thor's grandfather for mortality.'_

Somehow, that news was the easiest to digest. Not the being friends with the _grandfather_ of the God of Thunder part, but the part about giving up his immortality so he could live amongst humans. It did sound like something that he would do; after all, once he saw the Commando's and Carter all grow old, while he remained the same, he viewed his apparent immortality as a curse as well. And that was after a few decennia. John could only imagine how it would feel if he had been forced to go through that for millennia.

 _´But I'm not alone anymore.'_

There were of course the Asgardians themselves, incredibly long lived, if Thor's apparent youth, despite being over 2,000 years old, was anything to go by. And while he and Mary were confirmed to be the last of the Guardians, making them the last of their kind as he had feared, their original species still survived.

The Eternals. Hidden away, but not forgotten, even after thousands of years. Gods among men, John had lived amongst them, before he apparently chose the mortal humans over his own kind.

But they were still out there. Somewhere, hiding from him, not willing to chance the wrath of the Celestials. But maybe they didn't have to fear the Space Gods anymore. After all, Thor said that Odin wouldn't banish him to earth, if he hadn't gotten some sign from the Celestials that it was okay to do so.

Maybe he could finally be reunited with his people?

John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shut his eyes. His head was spinning from all these questions without answers, and it certainly appeared as if it had no intention of stopping anytime soon. Opening his eyes, he glanced at the phone still in his hand.

And he still had a very important phone call to make. After all, these revelations didn't solely affect him.

Mary had a right to know as well.

Still, Jon struggled to actually call his ex-wife. How do you drop a bombshell like that, not to mention over the phone?

"Hi, just calling to let you know that we're actually almost a million years old, were created by space gods from normal humans with the rest of our species, only to split off from them and form our own little mortal group because we liked humans so much which in turned made the space gods angry and they took our memories. By the way, what's for dinner?"

Yeah, that wouldn't go over very well.

Sighing, John's finger slowly went to the call button, absentmindedly having already filled in Mary's phone-number.

"John!"

The Guardian whirled around, taking care not to show any visible relief on his face.

"Hey Steve, what's up?"

The supersoldier paused in his tracks, scrutinizing John's face, obviously noticing that John was hiding something. Thankfully, he let it drop after a few moments, apparently deciding that it wasn't any of his business, and if it was, then John would tell him when he was ready to do so.

"Loki is ready for interrogation now. Fury is heading down there, want to come with?"

* * *

Loki was lying on his back on the cot provided for him inside his glass cage. He still grinned whenever he looked at his transparent prison walls.

Seriously? Who builds a prison made out of _glass_?

Sure, the glass was probably several cuts above even the most durable of materials mortals usually used, but still, why not make the entire thing out of a solid foot of the hardiest metal?

It was what he would do, if he were to contain someone like him.

' _Then again´_ he mused, _'this wasn't built to contain me.'_

The god was shaken out of his thoughts when one of the doors leading to the room his cell was in hissed open. Four figures stepped through, all easily recognizable, even to his… _damaged_ mind.

His oaf of a brother, of course, was the easiest to identify. A large red cape trailing behind his equally large frame, while golden hair swayed around his head. The harsh lights overhead made the scales of the Thunder God's armour shine brightly as they smoothly moved in concert. Thor's strong features were marred by a frown, worry written clear on his face.

Next to his brother, a dark-skinned man in a leather trench coat strode with purpose, an aura of command hanging heavily around the man like a cloak. The man's single eye was trained on Loki, and didn't show any emotion other than an unbreakable willpower. Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and one of the few to survive his arrival on Midgard.

The other survivors were all under the control of the staff.

Next to the imposing Director, were two men, who moved in a way that reminded Loki of the Warriors Three, or even him and his brother in a way, a long time ago. The man on the left looked as if someone had taken all of the greatest of Midgard's athletes, and then decided to outdo them by creating an even greater specimen. However, the most noticeable things about him, beside his impressive physique, were his weapon and his uniform.

The man's outfit consisted of a combination of spandex and leather, coloured in such a way that Loki easily recognised the flag of the United States. Steve Rogers, known to Man as the war hero Captain America. Secured on the man's back was a circular shield, which Loki had already seen in action. For the humans to create a weapon that can withstand the might of Mjolnir… it seemed as if all of the Realms had severely underestimated the might of Midgard.

Of course, this wasn't entirely true, Loki mused as he looked at the final man to have entered the large room, for Midgard had always had a mighty protector keeping the Realm from harm, even if they themselves did not know it.

The man was as tall as Thor, and as well built as the Captain. The man wore a dark suit with bright yellow highlights, forming an abstract eagle on the man's broad chest. His eyes were obscured by sunglasses, once again with yellow highlights. Despite not recognizing the man's outfit, Loki still knew him the moment he had walked into the room.

Astartes.

A legendary hero amongst the cosmically powered Eternals, yet spurning them in order to live as a mortal amongst humans.

Loki knew of him of course. How couldn't he, when the Guardian was his brother's greatest hero. Loki smiled inwardly. Whenever Thor would talk about Astartes with a boyish glee, even into adulthood, Loki felt closer to his brother in a way. He and Thor didn't share a lot of common interests, with his being more along the lines of academics and magic, while Thor's were firmly embedded in physical contests, be it in battle or sports.

But whenever they would find themselves in lessons regarding the Eternals or the Guardians, Thor would pay just as much attention to knowledge as Loki did, if not more so. It brought them together, when they would stay up past curfew in order to sneak into the Great Library of Asgard, Loki in search of ancient and mystical tomes, while Thor was in pursuit of scrolls detailing the legends of Astartes and his companions.

Because of that, Loki found that he couldn't muster any hatred for the ancient hero, despite still keenly feeling the effects of being punched in the chest by the mightiest of the Eternals.

Loki quickly scanned the rest of the room for any further guests who might have slipped in alongside the eye catching entrance of his visitors, his treatment at the hands of the Chitauri leaving him wary of the shadows.

' _I see the redhead is absent. For now, at least.'_

The spy had entered the room, not long after he had been locked inside his cage made of glass, obviously intending on starting her interrogation. Loki however had been in enormous pain at the time, not so much of the body (though by the Bastard's Beard, did that hurt too) but of the mind.

Having no patience for a mortal who thought she could trade words and wit with Loki Silver-tongue, Prince of Lies and Trickery, he snapped at her, coldly pointing out that she would only ever get out of him what he would be willing to divulge to her, and had shut her out, trying to assess the damage to his mind and to bear the pain.

Focusing once more on his visitors, though he pointedly ignored his brother, earning him a hurt look which brought him glee, as well as a hurt of its own, Loki settled his green eyes on the single dark one of the Director's.

"My, my, my. Tell me, what brings you all to my humble abode?"

* * *

Nick Fury resisted showing the shudder travelling down his spine with nothing but an iron will. It had been only a couple of days ago that this man, no, this _god_ had appeared in what could only be a scene out of some cheesy sci-fi flick, killing most of the men on site, and taking control of one of his most accomplished agents and a scientist with knowledge Fury did _not_ want in the hands of the enemy.

And now, despite having his chest bandaged and the harsh light of the containment cell showing just how wrung out he truly was, the Prince of Lies still managed to look down on all of them, his voice, softer than the smoothest silk, worming its way inside his mind.

Not rising to the god's taunts, Nick continued his steady walk, striding past Loki's cage without so much as a glance. He managed to school his features in a mask of neutrality due to years of experience, despite seeing that he had ticked the Prince of Trickery off by ignoring him.

"In case it's unclear," he said, as he continued walking up to a platform with an intricate looking control panel.

"If you try to escape,"

He started fiddling with the controls, still not looking at the caged god.

"If you so much as _scratch_ that glass,"

A loud hiss echoed through the large room, as the floor underneath the cage split in two, revealing a gaping hole, all the way through the hull of the ship and large enough to accommodate the cage now precariously hanging above it, connected to the ship by nothing more than some flimsy bridges.

"it's 30,000 feet straight down in a steel trap." He finished in a cool tone, only now looking back at Loki.

The god was peering down the deep shaft with a slight worry in his eyes, though his posture remained frustratingly relaxed.

"No! You cannot do this!" Thor roared, looking at Nick with fury clearly written across his face.

Next to the irate God of Thunder, Nick could see the Captain slowly reaching for his famous shield, while Hancock visibly tensed up.

Defusing the situation before it had a chance to get out of hand, Nick addressed Thor in the same tone he would speak to the new S.H.I.E.L.D. recruits when they had finished training.

Not that he expected for the god to run away in tears, but it should calm him down a bit.

"And I won't have to, unless your brother here does something monumentally… _stupid_."

Thor scowled in response but settled down, though the frown didn't leave his face. Nick didn't care. His job was to save the world, not spare someone's feelings, mythological god or not.

Nick turned towards Loki, who only now looked up from his silent examination of the floor in order to look him in the eye with a cool smirk on his face.

' _Strange. You'd think that someone known as Silvertongue and Prince of Lies would, you know,_ talk _more.'_

Nick filed it away for now, though he could call upon it at the slightest notion of it being useful. His many years in S.H.I.E.L.D. had thought him that every single bit of information or gut feeling, no matter how small or inaccurate, still had its uses and should ever be dismissed.

Trying to goad a reaction, Nick started talking again.

"You get how this works?"

He gestured to the cage.

"Ant."

He gestured to the control panel.

"Boot."

In response to the taunt, Loki laughed, only to cut himself off with a pained gasp. Thor immediately darted forward, but was stopped by Loki snapping out his hand, warding his brother off. The God of Thunder looked conflicted, before backing down.

"It's an impressive cage," the god panted, hand still pressed to his ribs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nick could see guilt flash across Hancock's face.

"Not built, I think, for me." The god finished with a smirk.

Nick frowned in response, feeling the heavy glares of Steve and John burning in his back. He would deal with them at a later time.

"Built for something a lot stronger than you." He bit back.

The god simply smiled in response.

"So I've heard. A mindless beast, playing at still being a man. Tell me, how desperate are you, that you call upon such… _lost_ , creatures to defend you?"

Nick didn't miss the glance the god sent Hancock's way when he said "lost". Considering he knew that Loki knew that John wouldn't miss it as well, Nick had to assume the little gesture was shown on purpose.

What that purpose was, Nick still didn't know.

Stepping closer to the cage, Nick growled his response in a soft, very dangerous, tone of voice.

"How desperate am I? You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can't hope to control. You talk about peace and you kill because it's fun."

He paused for a moment, his eye boring into Loki's, making the smirk slide of the Northern God's face.

"You have made me _very_ desperate." Nick finished.

A deafening silence reigned across the room, Nick's words having fallen like the strikes of a hammer on an anvil. Loki's face was inscrutable as he studied Nick's, eyes searching for something the Director could only guess at.

Finally the god sighed, slightly turning away from him and closing his eyes in defeat.

"Oh, Director. You are not _nearly_ desperate enough."

* * *

Thor looked at his brother as a chill ran down his spine. The words were ominous yes, but the others didn't know just how ominous they truly were. They didn't know Loki like he did, didn't know his brother's habits and mannerisms as he did. Understandable of course, the most information they had on him were millennia old texts in ancient languages, but now they were missing crucial information.

Because it wasn't _what_ Loki had said, it was _how_ he said it.

Loki was defeated.

Despite being an outcast in Asgard, something Thor had only learned of after his banishment to Midgard and his return as a changed man, Loki had never had an air of being affected by that. He always had a clever word or a snarky comment ready, a condescending sneer on his face for those who shunned him.

Because of this Thor, and many of his fellow Asgardians, had never truly understood how alone his brother had felt, how he was always on the outside, looking in. It always seemed as if it was Loki, who was keeping others at arm's length, and only now Thor realized that it was the other way around.

Never was Loki sad, never was he broken, he always came out on top in the end. Even during those horrible moments on the Bifrost, with Loki only holding on to Gungir by the tips of fingers, did his brother not give in, choosing his own fate.

But now, sitting on the cot in a glass cage suspended 30,000 feet above the sea, his brother was defeated.

His posture was slumped and his voice soft, while the stark white lights in the ceiling clearly showed bags under his brother's eyes, which were sunken deep in a sallow face.

He didn't even act like he used to, with clever quips and sharp words; there were no boasts of him getting out of the flimsy cage, or how he had outwitted them all in a scheme so elaborate, it would leave them scratching their heads for years to come.

Instead, his brother had been silent save for the occasional taunt or in order to snap at the redheaded spy to leave him be, instead of engaging in a battle of words and wit with her, one-sided though it might have been.

Stepping up to the cage, ignoring the tensing up of his companions and the baleful look his brother sent him, Thor laid one hand on the cool glass.

"Brother. What ails you?" he asked softly, not looking away from Loki's hate filled gaze.

"Do NOT call me brother!"

"But you _are_ my brother, and as such, I will call you so." Thor replied calmly.

The situation felt surreal in a way. In the past, whenever he and Loki had their quarrels, it was always Loki who kept his head, getting a rise out of Thor, who would lose his temper due to his brother managing to push his buttons without losing his cool.

Now it was the other way around, something that Loki apparently noticed as well, because he looked gobsmacked for a second, before chuckling bitterly. Silence reigned between them, with his companions having taken a step back to let them have this moment together.

"I thought you dead." Thor said softly, surprising the both of them.

He didn't know why he said it. Perhaps because, looking at his little wounded brother, he was forced to remember those horrible moments on the Bifrost, forced to watch as Loki fell into the Abyss of space.

Loki looked up sharply, eyes distrustful. He opened and closed his mouth several times, before he finally managed to voice his question.

"Did you mourn?"

Thor closed his eyes. There had been the proper mourning ceremonies, befitting a Prince of Asgard of course, but most at Court had done so out of a sense of duty, rather than any personal sentiment, Loki's crimes still in everyone's minds. Not even the Warriors Three had truly mourned his brother, only mourning for his sake, rather than Loki's. But still…

Thor opened his eyes.

"Aye. Our family did. Our father-"

" _Your_ father!" Loki spat, springing to his feet in anger, only to grasp his ribs with a hiss.

Thor waited until his brother had sat down again and managed to compose himself, before continuing in a calm voice, still somewhat unnerved by this reversal in roles.

" _Our_ father and mother mourned alongside me. Father commissioned a statue to be made in your likeness to be placed in the Hall of Heroes."

Loki's head shot up with a snap, bloodshot eyes widening in surprise. The reaction amongst the Asgardians had been much the same. One of the bolder nobles had even questioned this decision, saying that Thor was for more deserving of such an honour due to his many heroics and adventures.

Apparently forgetting that Loki had accompanied him on almost all of them.

Before he could defend his brother, his father had slammed Gungir's staff on the ground, creating a deafening boom which silenced the Great Hall of Asgard. Turning his single eye upon the noble who had spoken out, Odin asked in a silent voice which echoed around the Hall, "Do you question the way in which I wish to honour my son? Or do you wish to question whether my son, and thus, by extension me and my house, have any honour at all? If you do, feel free to speak now."

Needless to say, the noble didn't speak another word.

"In my likeness?" Loki whispered, before giving a bitter chuckle.

"And which likeness did he chose, _brother_?! This form? Or that of a _monster_!" Loki spat, once more springing up from his cot.

"Surely he has told you of my heritage, did he not!? So tell me, what statue is adorned with the name of Loki _Laufeyson_?! A lie? Or a _beast_?" his brother raged.

Thor winced but didn't back down.

"It is the statue of my brother." He stated quietly, catching Loki off guard, who was now staring at him with wide eyes.

"And whatever form that may be, it matters not. Not to me. Not to mother. Not even to father."

Silence once more reigned, as Loki hesitantly approached him, eyes desperately searching his for any trickery or deceit. He found none.

"But it matters to Asgard." Loki said with a sad smile.

Thor opened his mouth to dispute his brother's claim, but the words died in his throat. It was the truth after all, he couldn't defend his home without lying to his brother. Closing his eyes, Thor sighed.

"Aye. It'd matter to Asgard."

Loki scoffed, before turning his back on him.

"So why would I return, brother? Why not let me stay here, rule Midgard as the King that I was always meant to be!?"

"You'd take the world I love as a recompense for the slights of a people it didn't even know exist?" Thor asked harshly.

"And why should I not!?" Loki whirled around, face flushed in anger. "Look at them! It takes their Guardian to save them from themselves, and even then they shun him. And you! You'd style yourself after him, you always have! You'd follow in his footsteps and take his mantle but can you? Would the humans of Midgard even accept you? Or would they rebel, insist on the freedom to pursue their violent and murderous ways? I can do better, I _would_ do better, than you, or your Guardian! I would rule them as the King that they need, but do not deserve!"

"You think yourself better than them, then?" Thor asked coolly of his now panting brother.

"Well, yes." Loki said, confused.

"Then you miss the truth of ruling, brother. A throne would suit you ill." Thor said gravely, all the while not believing that he had to be the reasonable one in this discussion.

Loki's face flushed once more in anger, something ugly rising in his eyes.

"With the Tesseract it would! I have been shown its power and when I wield it-!"

Suddenly Loki cut himself off, succumbing to a couching fit. The Prince of Lies slumped down on his cot, his face turned away from his brother.

"Do not heed my words, Odinson, for they are spoken by an addled mind." Loki said softly, face drawn in sorrow.

Thor pressed on though, desperate that this slight clue would lead him to answers.

"Who showed you this power? Who would control you, were you made King?!"

Loki looked up with fear and remorse in his eyes.

"I cannot tell you, brother. He already controlled me once, and his might is strong enough he may control me again. He is coming, brother, he is coming for this world, and neither you nor your precious Guardian may save it."

Thor was taken aback. An enemy, powerful enough to overcome both him _and_ Astartes?

"Brother, who? Who holds such power that you fear him so?"

Loki slowly looked him in the eye and Thor was shocked to find sheer terror in his brothers eyes. He licked his cracked lips before whispering a single word.

"Thanos."

* * *

The tension was thick enough to cut with a spoon, John mused as he leaned back in his chair. It was almost physically present, a malicious entity, cackling madly at the table they were now sitting at.

"So how do we know your brothers claim is true? How can we know for sure that he was controlled, instead of acting on his own accord?" Natasha Romanov asked once more, her sultry voice cutting through the various discussions going on.

It was the source of the dilemma they were now faced with. If Loki was telling the truth, then they had to prepare for an enemy they were simply not ready to face. After Loki had said Thanos' name, Thor had gone white as a sheet, before dragging them all to the debriefing room, despite various protests.

Those protests had quickly died down when the God of Thunder started to explain just who Thanos was. Born as one of the Titans, a colony of Eternals settled on the, apparently artificial, moon Titan, Thanos was unusual due to suffering from the Deviant Syndrome, meaning that he didn't share the human like appearance of other Eternals, like John did.

Thanos quickly rose above all other Titans in terms of power and eventually committed genocide on his own people, destroying Titan with a nuclear bombardment. Not stopping there, Thanos started a conquest of space, cutting a swath of death throughout the universe and eventually settling on the far side of the universe, in a place ironically known only as the sanctuary.

Very little else was known about him, except that he had a fixation with death, which earned him the title of Mad Titan, and that he somehow managed to employ the Chitauri, a race not from this universe.

And, according to Loki, he was on his way to Earth.

"Because I know my brother! He would've boasted of a clever scheme, or tried to talk his way out of trouble, _not_ hold his peace!" Thor snapped back, agitatedly walking back and forth.

"We need more than that Thor. We need proof." Nick said in a voice which brooked no argument.

"If I may sir?" suddenly a soft voice cut in.

John was startled by the sudden voice, not even seeing anybody else enter the room. Judging by the way everybody else tensed up, or reached for weapons, he wasn't the only one.

"I do have some evidence supporting Loki's claim sir." Agent Coulson said, his signature smile on his face.

Nick sighed as he released the grip he had on his gun.

"Remind me to tell Hill to put a bell on you, Coulson." The Director said in half-hearted annoyance.

"I will pass it on sir." Coulson said, smile growing just a bit wider.

Nick simply growled in reply.

"Coulson, what's the evidence?" Black Widow cut in.

Despite her voice and face betraying no emotion, John's superior eyes picked up the way all of her muscles were still tensed, and how her eyes bored into Coulson's.

John understood though. If Loki had in fact been controlled, but was now snapped out of it, then there was a good chance that Barton could be freed from the mind control as well.

Coulson's smile somehow turned softer and more sympathetic, and John could see Romanov relaxing slightly in response. Apparently she and Coulson had some history together.

"Thor, how would you describe your brother's fighting style?" the agent asked.

The God of Thunder was caught off guard, but didn't hesitate in answering.

"It is all about misdirection. Either with his magic or with his knives. He'd create an image of himself, trick you with it, and attack from where you least expect it. There's no proper defence against him, simply because most of the time, you won't know where he is."

Coulson nodded to this before turning towards Nick.

"Sir, does this description comply with what you encountered during first contact with the target?"

Nick furrowed his brow, obviously replaying the events inside his mind. Slowly he started shaking his head.

"No. It was all punches and kicks, something using that staff of his. A couple of throwing knives. That's it. He didn't even dodge the gunfire, though he looked fast enough to do it."

Now it was Thor's turn to frown.

"That is not my brother's way. He would pride himself of coming out of battle without a single mark on him. It was maddening." The god chuckled briefly.

"Maybe travelling through the portal took a lot of his energy? Leaving him unable to do magic?" Romanov asked.

It was clear that she hated to dispute Loki's claim of being controlled, but the question was a fair one. None of them had any experience with portals of any kind, so it could very well be the truth. Something Thor realized as well, because he gave a heavy sigh.

"It is possible I suppose. Even we still do not know all there is to know about the Tesseract."

John meanwhile had tuned the conversation out as he was flipping through the files Coulson had brought along. It appeared to be taken from footage from the security camera's, with some frames being enlarged in order to zoom in on some things, such as the Tesseract, Loki's staff, Loki himself-

Wait.

"Thor?" he asked, still not looking up from the report.

"Yes, Astartes?"

"What colour eyes does your brother have?"

John could almost _hear_ the confusion coming off the Norse God as he furrowed his brow.

"Green, but I don't see-"

"Nick, what colour eyes did Loki have in the cell?"

"Green, I suppose, but-"

"And what colour were his eyes during first contact?"

Nick growled in annoyance.

"How the hell should I know, I was kind of busy not being shot to death at the time!"

"Well, I _do_ know."

Looking up and seeing all the eyes in the room on him, John grinned and turned the files around, so the others could see it too.

"Congratulations, Thor, looks like your brother was telling the truth after all."

In John's hands was a close-up face of Loki, moments after he had come through the portal.

And his eyes were an icy blue.

* * *

As Steve barged into the briefing room he still hadn't really thought of what to say. To be honest, his blood was still running hot from his short confrontation with Tony Stark, after seeing the scientist prod Dr. Banner with a… _something_. Still though, Starks' rebuke had hit close to home.

' _Tell me, of the people in this room, who is a) wearing star-spangled spandex, and b) not of use?'_

It had been bothering him ever since he woke up from the ice. Yes the talk with John had helped, no argument there, but to hear Tony Stark, the son of Howard, tell him he wasn't useful…

It had hurt.

A lot more than he thought it would.

So he had stormed out, and started scouring the Helicarrier for something out of place, something that would lift the veil on Fury's schemes. And he'd hit the motherload.

Now he barged into the briefing room, evidence in hand and no idea what he'd even say.

Turned out, it wasn't even necessary.

It was pandemonium. People were shouting back and forth, and there was a general feeling of panic and frustration.

"Uhh, guys?"

At once, the room fell silent, as its occupants turned to face him as one. John was the first to speak.

"Steve? Mind telling me why you're pointing the biggest damn gun I've ever seen at us?"

Startled Steve looked down to find that in his confusion he had raised the humongous weapon he'd found and pointed it at the people in the room. Despite it being obviously without power, the sheer size of the thing made for a very intimidating pose.

Shaking himself, Steve narrowed his eyes at Fury, who already had a resigned look on his face.

"This is the evidence that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra are more alike than I realised."

"Steve, what do you mean?" John asked confused.

"What he means, Mr. Hancock, is that he is carrying but one of the many projects that fall under Fury's Phase II program." An arrogant voice called out.

Tony Stark walked into the room, with Dr. Banner on his heels, who looked like he really wanted to be anywhere but here at the moment.

Flashing a disk of some kind, Stark sent a cocky smirk Steve's way.

"Sorry Captain, but the old-fashioned way was too slow for my tastes."

"And what is this, Phase II, you speak of, Man of Iron?" Thor asked, his brow furrowed.

"Glad you asked, Point Break!" Stark said, as he pushed his little piece of technology that Steve couldn't make head or tails of against the table.

A bunch of transparent screens popped up out of the table, each one showing a blueprint of some kind. Steve didn't understand half of it, but he did notice one thing; all of them were based around the power of the Tesseract.

"I expected better of you Fury." John said in an angry tone, though Steve could tell he was genuinely disappointed.

Fury immediately replied though.

"Spare me the speech Hancock. You and I both know you have no claim of a higher moral ground. You heard Thor; big things are coming our way, bigger than we have ever seen before. A member of your species, Hancock, more powerful than any other, is set on turning our planet into a wasteland." Fury ground out.

Steve blinked in surprise. That was new. A quick glance at Tony showed that the scientist knew just as much as he did. Which was absolutely nothing. John's raised voice brought him back to the conversation.

"So you decide to follow the path of the greatest enemy S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever faced!?"

"Get with the program John! Hydra isn't the biggest threat anymore! This is bigger than Hydra, bigger than S.H.I.E.L.D.! If we want to survive what's coming, then we need power we do not have. But which the Tesseract can give us."

To his shock, Steve saw John back down, a contemplating look on his face. Thor however scoffed at the Director's words.

"It was this thinking that drew Thanos' gaze to Midgard in the first place. By trying to harness the Tesseract, you sent out a message to the rest of the universe that you can never take back."

Thor paused for a moment, seeing all the eyes of the others on him before continuing.

"That Earth is ready for a higher form of war."

"Hold up! I call time out!" Stark yelled out, wildly waving his hands in a 'time-out' motion.

"What the hell do you mean with 'a higher form of war'? And who is this Thanos anyway and why do we need to care about him? I thought Loki is the Bad Guy here?"

"Thanos is the one who controlled Loki in the same way Loki controlled Barton and Selvig. A member of my species from a colony who settled on Titan before he destroyed them all and went on a crusade of death and destruction throughout the universe. And now he's coming for Earth." John said grimly.

"Ah. Well then." Tony said haltingly.

Steve could sympathize. For decades, John had been the very embodiment of the concept of power, and with good reason. To hear that one of his kind had the power to wipe out an entire colony of them, and then continue unopposed throughout the universe was… disheartening wasn't powerful enough a word.

"Last year we learned we were not alone. That we were hopelessly, no, hilariously outgunned. Now we learn that the people who outgunned us, are outgunned themselves. We _need_ Phase II to keep the Earth safe." Fury pressed on.

"A nuclear deterrent then." Stark mused.

Steve turned to the scientist, surprised to find an unusually grave expression on the man's face. Seeing all eyes on him, Stark continued.

"Because that always calms things down." Iron Man continued, sarcasm almost physically pouring from the man's words.

"Excuse me Stark, but remind me again of how you made your fortune?" Fury snapped harshly.

A brief look of hurt flashed across the scientist's face, before a mask of indifferent neutrality was slammed down over it.

Stark shot a barb back at Fury, causing Romanov to come to his defence. What she said though somehow managed to insult both Dr. Banner and Thor, with the latter proceeding to insult the entirety of the human race in a single sentence. Which made John lash out, somehow dragging Steve into all of it as well. He didn't know why but there was a sudden need for conflict that he simply couldn't shake and Steve threw himself into the verbal beat down with a vitriol he knew wasn't coming from him.

Without really knowing why, Steve was suddenly face to face with an angry Tony Stark, engaging in a conversation he somehow had no control over. It was as if he were an outsider looking in on his own actions.

"Yeah? Big man in a suit of armour. Take that off, what are you?"

Stark's reply was immediate.

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."

Somehow, the reply stoked his non-existent anger even further.

"I know guys with _none_ of that, worth _ten_ of you. I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is _yourself_. You're not the one to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you."

"I think I'd just cut the wire."

Again, Steve felt an irrational anger build up even higher. He chuckled bitterly.

"Always a way out. You may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero."

"STEVE! THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Steve was shaken from his haze by the thunderous voice of John. Looking at the Eternal, Steve saw that he was looking at him in a mix of confusion, disappointment and anger.

' _What the hell happened?'_

"Stay out of this Hancock." Stark's voice came, unusually soft.

"A hero? Like you? You're a laboratory experiment Rogers. Everything about you came out of a bottle." The Merchant of Death said, stepping closer to Steve.

At once the rage came back, though this time Steve recognized it as not being his own. Yes, he was angry to a point, but there was something influencing his mind, blowing up the anger way bigger than it actually was. Still, this realisation didn't help him stop himself from snapping back at Stark.

"Put on the suit. Let's go a few rounds."

"I'm not afraid to hit an old man."

"Just put on the suit."

"Guys, cut it out-"

John never managed to finish as a sudden explosion shook the Helicarrier. Flames erupted from the centre of the room, throwing everyone back. Landing harshly on his back, Steve felt his mind clear, like a fog of sorts had lifted. Struggling to his feet, his eyes landed on the sceptre, lying forgotten on the scorched floor.

A shudder ran through Steve.

' _Guess Tolkien really knew what he was talking about, huh?'_

Turning to his left, he saw that Stark had managed to regain his footing as well.

"Put on the suit."

A quick nod was his answer, the both of them ready to dash out of the room. A sound stopped them in their tracks however. It was the sound of ripping clothing.

And Dr. Banner was nowhere in sight.

* * *

 **AN:** In order to get the dialogue right, I was rewatching the Avengers (can you believe that it's been 4 years already since that movie came out?) and I noticed that the scene in wich they all start bitching with each other until Banner grabs the spear is eerily like the scene in The Fellowship of the Ring, where they argue what to do with the thing. Seriously, just compare the two scenes to eachother. It's uncanny. So I imagine that the sceptre (which holds the Gem of the Mind) has a similar effect. Hope that came through in my writing :)

 **Fun Fact:** Remember the scene in Iron Man, where, before the press conference at the end of the movie, Tony is reading a newspaper? The low quality foto of Iron Man on the cover is actually from a video shot by onlookers hiding in the bushes during the initial filming.


	8. SHIELD under Siege

**AN:** A lot of you people have been anxiously waiting for a fight between Hulk and Hancock, and I'm happy to say that the wait is over! :D I'm really tired though, so I'll keep it short. Have fun! :)

* * *

 **Chapter 8 – S.H.I.E.L.D. under Siege**

John worked himself to his feet, his head still ringing from the blast. Everything had just happened so fast; first people started getting in each other's faces without any apparent reason, and then the lab just… _exploded_.

Quickly looking around, John realized with a sigh of relief that most of the damage had been cosmetic in nature. Already, Steve and Tony were up on their feet and were running towards… well, wherever they thought the danger was, he supposed.

Next to him, Fury was viciously yelling in his earpiece, wanting to know what the hell was going on. John could sympathize with the Director; he'd like to know as well. His attention was grabbed however by a shout from Thor.

"No! My brother!" the God of Thunder roared in panic, eyes wide with fear.

Before John could protest, the Asgardian had already made his way to the exit of the room, presumably making his way to where Loki was being kept.

' _Wait, don't we miss-'_

"Guys?!" came the panicked shout of Black Widow.

Without even thinking about it, John had moved towards where the glass wall of the room used to be, peering down into one of the many walkways that ran throughout the Helicarrier.

What he saw made the blood turn to ice in his veins.

Trapped under some kind of pipe, Natasha Romanoff was looking in panic at the hunched over form of Bruce Banner. But the Doctor wasn't looking like himself anymore, his clothes ripped and straining to contain bulging muscles, while his skin started to look more and more green.

Bruce looked up at the room and stared John straight in the eye. The Guardian was surprised to see that the man's eyes were still a warm brown colour, though they were widened in fear and… sorrow?

"Help… her…" the Doctor growled out, his voice no longer that of a human.

Nodding, John quickly vaulted over the twisted remains of what once used to be a wall. Behind him, he could Steve and Tony running off in one direction together, while Thor ran off in another. Fury was yelling more urgently in his earpiece now, probably initiating whatever protocols the Helicarrier had for a rampaging Hulk.

Working quickly, he grabbed the enormous pipe with both hands, and with a grunt threw the entire thing off Black Widow. To the assassin's credit, she worked herself to her feet almost immediately, though her fear-filled gaze was fixed on the Doctor, who was looking less and less like a human by the second.

She recovered fast enough in fact, that John started to suspect that the Russian turncoat wasn't exactly a baseline human herself anymore.

Putting it out of his mind for now, he grabbed the spy by the shoulders, giving her a firm shake. Almost the second he touched her, her attention shifted from Bruce to him, while her arms instinctively struck out in an attack.

Ignoring the blows (she didn't have the strength to harm him anyway) John gave her another firm shake, snapping her out of her daze.

"What's the shortest way out of here?!" he yelled, his back to the still changing Bruce.

It was clear that the scientist was fighting his alter ego with all that he had; from what John knew of the Hulk, it usually didn't take so long for the switch to happen. Bruce was giving them as much time as he could, and they needed to use that to their advantage.

It only took a few seconds before Natasha started answering, though haltingly at first.

"There's… uhmm.. If you go… If you go that way, then take a left, until you reach-"

Shaking his head, John tried again, peering intently at the superspy.

"No, the _shortest_ way, from _here_ to the _outside_!"

Understanding dawned in the assassin's eyes, quickly followed by a wince. Good, she seemed to finally catch his drift.

"Fury's gonna hate this." She said cautiously.

 _Rip!_

"Grrrrrrr…"

Not looking back, John gave her a flat stare.

"I don't really think that's our biggest concern right now."

"I agree." Natasha nodded with a gulp, looking at something over John's shoulder.

Slowly turning around, John came face to chest with the largest man he had ever seen. Well, man didn't really apply here. Most obvious of course was that the skin tone was somewhat off, with it being a muddled sort of green and all.

But as John peered up into the 8 feet tall behemoth, he noticed that there were more differences between the Hulk and a regular human. For instance, several proportions were a little off, like his too-long arms, giving him a somewhat ape-like appearance with the way he stood hunched over.

Still though, he could clearly see Bruce's features in the Hulk's face as it stared down at him with a snarl. While definitely changed, the scientist was still recognisable in the monster, even through the massive eyebrows and enlarged facial features, though the eyes had remained roughly the same size.

Deciding see if Bruce was still in the Hulk somewhere, other than his appearance, John warily raised his hands, trying to make himself as non-threatening as possible. While he was pretty sure the Hulk couldn't really do him any serious harm, he had never fought the Jade Giant before and so he didn't know for sure.

Looking at the rippling mountain of muscle in front of him, John decided that he'd rather not risk it.

"Hey, Bruce. You in there? Can you hear me buddie?" he asked gently.

The only warning he got was a subtle shift in the Hulk's stance and a narrowing of the monster's eyes, before a giant green fist was descending towards his face at breakneck speeds.

 _BAM!_

John strained under the pressure, as beneath his feet the metal of the walkway started to buckle in on itself. Having raised his arms at the last possible moment, John had caught the Hulk's punch, only to be shoved away a full foot as if he weighed nothing at all.

' _Holy shit! His strength is ridiculous!'_ John thought to himself with gritted teeth, starting to push back against the green behemoth.

He could see confusion in the Hulk's eyes for only a second, before rage replaced it. The giant monster pulled back his fist and let out a snarl, body tensed up to deliver another devastating punch.

This time, however, John was ready. Not giving the Hulk a chance to attack, he shot forward, shattering the twisted metal underneath them, shoulder checking Bruce's alter ego in the chest as hard as he could.

There was a surprised _'oomph!'_ as the Hulk was lifted clear off his feet, before being thrown through the narrow walkway, denting both walls with his massive frame. As the Jade Giant landed with a crash that sent a shudder throughout the Helicarrier, John whirled back to Black Widow, who was pointing her gun in the Hulk's direction with a white-knuckled grip.

"Natasha! The shortest way out, _now_!"

Already, the Hulk was getting back to his feet, face contorted in fury. Gaze flicking from John to the rage monster and back, Natasha gave a jerky nod, before closing her eyes, trying to focus.

By now, the Hulk was back on his feet and let out a roar that was heard throughout the Helicarrier and made John wince as his ear-drums were assaulted by the intensely loud noise.

"Natasha! NOW!"

Pushing off, the Hulk started running towards them, all the while letting out snarls and growls of rage, not even appearing to notice as it smashed through several pieces of equipment that lined the walls of the walkway.

" _Natasha_!"

It was almost upon them, raising itself to its impressive height as it pulled back one massive fist, intent on pulverizing them where they stood-

"That way!"

-And John took off, arms outstretched as he caught the Hulk around the middle. Not letting go, he powered on at his fastest speed, letting out several sonic booms that shattered throughout the battered Helicarrier.

The Hulk struggled mightily, enormous muscles straining against John's grip, but the Guardian didn't let up. He continued flying in a straight line, smashing through several walls and rooms, desperately hoping he hadn't hurt anyone, but not being able to check.

The Hulk had now given up on prying his arms loose, and instead started hammering on John's body, making him swerve wildly out of control. Letting out a yell of effort, the superhuman strained to keep flying in a somewhat straight line, continuing to power through the various walls of the Helicarrier.

Right as the Hulk lifted both of his massive arms in order to smash them down in devastating double-fisted hammer-blow on John's back, the Guardian smashed through the thick outer wall of the Helicarrier in an explosion of shrapnel and pieces of machinery.

Out of the corner of his eye, John could see what looked like Iron Man around one of the rotors of the Helicarrier, which appeared to be broken if the smoke was any indication. Several Quinjets and fighter jets flew around the crippled form of the Helicarrier like flies around a piece of carrion.

Then his attention was fully drawn by his adversary, as an incredibly powerful punch managed to nail him in the gut, blasting him away and down. Spinning out of control, John quickly tried to straight himself, trying to locate the Hulk.

A shadow falling over his face made him look up, only to see the Hulk fall towards him in a frothing rage, fist already pulled back for another punch. Rolling out of the way in a desperate move, the green behemoth passed by John close enough for the displaced wind to whip around his skin, but not close enough to actually touch him.

Something that greatly upset the Hulk, apparently, if the rage-filled roar was anything to go by, as it sped towards the ground. John looked the Jade Giant straight in his hate fuelled eyes, and gave a snarl of his own.

"You wanna have a go!? _Fine!_ Let's have a go!"

And he sped downwards, leaving a sonic boom in his wake. He could see the Hulk trying to right himself in mid-air, but up here, the rage monster was hopelessly outmatched. Easily angling himself around the flailing green arms, John sped forwards, catching the Hulk in the chest with a massive punch, which blasted the Hulk downwards even further.

Not letting up, John quickly followed up with several more consecutive punched, each one finding their mark, and each one creating the sound of a thunderclap. By now, John's superior eyesight managed to make out the details on the ground; it seemed like it was mostly farmland for miles around, which would mean that collateral damage would be contained to a minimum.

' _Good.'_ John thought grimly to himself, before preparing himself.

By now, the Hulk was truly consumed by rage, roaring incoherently and apparently not even aware of the fact that he was falling towards the ground at near supersonic speeds, instead flailing wildly at John whenever it could.

Taking a deep breath, John shot forward a final time, once again managing to wrap his arms around the Hulk's middle. Idly a part of John's mind distractedly noticed that Bruce's alter ego had an incredibly high body temperature, before he pushed the observation out of his mind.

Eyes watering at the amazing speeds they were now travelling, the wind screaming in his ears alongside the roars of the Hulk, John saw the ground rapidly approaching. Closing his eyes, John had a weirdly lucid thought.

' _Invulnerable or not, I'm pretty sure this is gonna hurt like hell.'_

And then they hit the ground with earth-shattering force, creating a crater easily a mile in diameter.

* * *

 _BOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!_

Thor paused for only a moment as the sound rattled his bones, before quickly continuing with his rush towards his brother's prison. The last thing he had seen of Astartes and Bruce Banner was when the Doctor was starting to chance into his other form, and Astartes preparing himself to fight it.

' _It's going to be okay. Astartes never loses after all.'_ Thor thought, trying to reassure himself.

' _Then again, he's never fought anything like the Hulk before.'_ A little voice replied.

He quickly put the thought out of his mind, having reached the room where Loki was being kept. With a soft hiss, the doors automatically opened for him, and he hurriedly ran inside. He ran his eyes over his brother's from, and gave a quiet sigh of relief; his brother appeared to be unharmed.

Well, not harmed any further at least.

In fact, his brother was even up and walking, though pacing was perhaps a more appropriate term. Outside of the glass cage, the Agent Son of Coul was talking to Loki in his characteristic calm voice, though if his brother's agitation was anything to go by, he wasn't really successful in calming the God of Lies down.

"Please Loki, anything you could tell us-"

"I've already told you everything! I was supposed to be captured and led to your flying fortress, sparing me the trouble of finding the damned thing myself. Once here, I would set the Hulk free, crippling S.H.I.E.L.D. without any effort on my part, while my people could easily track me through the sceptre. Then I would free myself and escape with them, sceptre in hand and unopposed by the only people that could be a threat to my… to _his_ plans." Loki bit back, though he finally stilled his pacing when he saw Thor standing in the same room.

A warm feeling blossomed in the Thunder God's chest when he saw Loki checking him for wounds in much the same way he had done mere moments before, making a smile appear on his face.

Apparently Loki had realized what Thor was so pleased about, because he sent a scowl his brother's way, though it was half-hearted at best.

"But how would you escape? Don't you-"

The Son of Coul was cut off by a scoff of Loki.

"Please, as if such a cage could contain me."

Thor frowned at the words. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was wrong. It was as if the voice hadn't come from _inside_ the prison-

Whirling around with Mjolnir raised above his head, Thor could feel his mouth fall open as he stared in his brother's face, which now sported a smug grin. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the Loki still inside the cage give a cheeky wave, before falling apart in a wave of golden-green light.

Next to the cage the Agent stood with one hand on the gun in his waistband, though to the man's credit he hadn't pulled it yet. Seeing Thor's look, the Son of Coul let go of the weapon and instead crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking at Loki with his signature small smile, though his tone was as hard as steel.

"Impressive. Very impressive. Please refrain from doing so again."

Looking back at his brother, Thor could see Loki give a roll of his eyes, though one of the corners of his mouth tugged upwards in a small smile.

"I'll stop doing that when people stop falling for it." The Prince of Lies replied with a smirk.

"Brother-" Thor started, but stopped himself.

This was the closest he had been to a conscious Loki in over a year. There was so much that he wanted to say, that he had realized he should have said either a lot sooner, or a lot more. But now that he stood face to face with his brother, without a prison to separate them, he found himself at a loss for word.

"- why did you not get out sooner?" he asked instead, though he could see that Loki knew that had not been what he had intended to say at first.

"It was not so much as to keep me _in_. It was to keep others _out_." Loki murmured bitterly, poison lining his words.

Thor's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I don't understand. Who do you wish to keep out? The people you took control over?"

" _I_ didn't take control over anybody!" Loki snapped back, before sagging in on himself.

"I didn't even have control over myself. And now that I am freed of the sceptre, neither do I have any control over the others."

"What will they do, now that you're no longer giving them orders?" The Son of Coul spoke up, having moved closer to the two brothers.

A bitter chuckle was his answer, as Loki fixed bloodshot eyes on him.

"Don't you understand, mortal? I never gave them orders in the first place. I simply passed them on. And they will try and finish those orders whether I want them to or not."

Thor frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest. This wasn't his strength. His highest academic feats had always lain either in battle tactics (and even then, those mostly consisted of 'hit the other thing, until it can't hit you back. Then hit it again.') or the history of Astartes and the Guardians.

This whole mind-control business was way above his head, and he felt uncomfortably out of his depth. But still, his brother was involved, he had to think of something…

"What if you used the staff? It gave you control over them the first time, maybe-"

"NO!" Loki shouted in a panic, startling both Thor and the Son of Coul.

"I will not touch that vile thing ever again! Please brother, do not ask such a thing of me again." Loki said shakily, eyes those of a man haunted by something unspeakable.

Not even hesitating for a second, Thor immediately drew his brother's thin frame to his own broad chest, all the while mentally hitting himself over the head for his tactlessness. The damned sceptre had been the cause of Loki's rampage on Midgard, of course his brother wanted nothing to do with it.

Underneath his arms, he could feel Loki tense, before cautiously relaxing himself. Thor almost cheered out loud, only the fact that his brother would have his hide if he did keeping him from doing so.

The moment was ruined however, when a mechanical voice came out of one of the many hidden speakers in the room.

" **Avengers?! Come in Avengers! Hancock?! Point Break?!** "

The Son of Coul ran to one of the various terminals that Thor couldn't make heads or tails off, fiddling with some of the button whose function was lost to the Thunder God's understanding.

"This is Agent Coulson, repeat, this is Agent Coulson, what is your situation Stark?" the Son of Coul said in a steady tone, his voice still calm even in this crisis.

" **Ah, Agent, you know, I never thought I'd say this in, like,** _ **ever**_ **, but it's good to hear your voice right now.** "

"What's going on Stark." The spy said, his tone not demanding, but still forcing Stark to get back on track.

" **Right, right, I need a flier, either Point Break or Hancock will do. The rotors of your back-left turbine are stuck, and I can't get them going on my own power. Steve is-**

The staccato of gunfire interrupted the message, alongside an odd ringing sound, which was accompanied by several pained screams.

" **\- Busy. Like, really busy. Damn, that man can move.** "

"John Hancock left the Helicarrier while trying to remove the Hulk from the premises. I do have Thor here with me."

" **So** _ **that**_ **was the massive shockwave I saw about three minutes ago. Good to know. If only I had a camera… wait, Jarvis, don't we have some satellites in orbit right now? Think you could rig them to catch the fight-** "

" _Stark_." The Son of Coul said in a warning tone.

" **Right, right. Can you send Thor to my position then? Either for help pushing this thing, or for keeping the bad guys off my back, because these people just don't give up.** "

More gunfire, the odd ringing sound accompanied once more by pained screams, followed by curses from Tony, before a now familiar whine sound was heard. After that, the sound of gunfire was noticeably absent.

" **Even though they really should.** " Came the satisfied voice of Iron Man.

"Copy that Iron Man, Thor is on his way, hold out a little longer, okay?"

" **Just hurry.** " Tony replied, before cutting off the transmission.

Nobody had to comment on the unusually serious note Tony ended on.

The Son of Coul looked at Thor, expression grave.

"You up for this?"

Thor almost reflexively nodded in confirmation, before stopping himself. He glanced at his brother, who was still wounded, in more ways than one. Should he leave him all alone, and go run off into danger without a second thought?

No! He changed during his exile, short as it may have been. He wouldn't abandon his brother ever again!

He opened his mouth to decline, before being cut off by a sigh from Loki.

"Just go out there and do your thing, you big oaf. I'll be… well, not _fine_ I suppose, or even safe for that matter, but I'll be… out of the way I suppose." His brother said in a sarcastic tone.

Thor made to protest, but was this time cut off by the Son of Coul.

"Don't worry Thor. Your brother is safe with me."

Loki scoffed at this, and Thor couldn't help but inwardly agree. While he had a great deal of respect for the spy and considered him a friend of sorts, he was still a mortal, while his brother was considered a god.

True, an injured, and mentally scarred god, but a god nonetheless.

"And how do you propose to keep me safe, _mortal_." Loki sneered, the 'mortal' spat out as if it were some sort of disease.

Thor frowned at his brother's vitriol, opening his mouth to berate him. Once more he was cut off, however, when the Son of Coul spoke up with a beaming smile.

"Oh, with this."

Turning around, the spy walked towards one of the other doors lining Loki's cell-room. Quickly typing in a code and getting his eye scanned, the spy stood back with a happy grin on his face as the doors slowly hissed open.

Behind the doors there was a walk-in closet, fully stocked with the biggest guns Thor had ever seen in his life, which included the giant monstrosity Steven Rogers had shown about ten minutes ago.

Walking towards a dais in the middle of the closet, the Son of Coul almost reverently picked up a massive black gun, only identifiable as such, due to having some sort of handle on one end, and a nozzle on the other.

Standing in front of the armoury, with the gun raised in front of his chest, the spy pressed a hidden button and the weapon lit up with an ominous hum and a vibrant orange glow around the barrel.

"What does it even _do_?" Thor heard his brother say in a mix of awe and apprehension.

"I don't know. Can't wait to find out, though." The spy said, with an enormous grin on his face, looking for all the world like a kid in a candy store.

Now Thor shared his brother's apprehension.

* * *

John struggled to his feet, the clouds of dust making it difficult to see even a foot in front of his face.

' _Guess I was right; that_ did _hurt.'_ The superhuman thought to himself with a wince.

He couldn't remember the last time he had actually felt pain. Sure, during his fights with Mary and Thor he had felt the strength of their blows, and he had been sore afterwards, but actual pain was something he had very little experience with.

The only other time he had truly been in pain was in the hospital, when Red Parker's men-

' _NO! Don't think about it John! That's over and done, they can never hurt you again!'_ John thought furiously to himself, shaking his head in order to free himself from those terrible memories.

"Focus." He whispered to himself, standing on steady legs and ignoring his ripped apart suit.

"He's not the enemy right now. But where-"

 _BAM!_

A green fist to the face answered that question. John was thrown back across the ruined field of the farmland he and the Hulk had crashed in, while the clouds of dust were blown back by the Hulk's punch.

Quickly jumping out of the trench he had created, John vaulted over the massive form of the Hulk, which crashed down where he had been lying mere moments before.

' _Is he a little bigger now?!'_ John thought to himself disbelievingly.

He was quickly shaken out of his thoughts by a roar of the Hulk. Seeing the giant monster look at him in an uncontrollable rage, John steeled his resolve.

' _I'm sorry Bruce. I hope you won't remember all this when you wake up again.'_

"You want some of this!? Huh!? Then come and get some asshole!"

"GRRAAAAHHHH!"

Both powerhouses took off, the Hulk shattering the ground beneath his feet as he jumped up, John leaving a sonic boom as he flew down. Both pulled back their fists, yelling at the top of their lungs.

 _BTOOOMM!_

The Hulk, once again at a disadvantage in the air, was violently blown back into the ground, creating a small crater, while John was punched back as well, twisting end over end before crashing down.

Quickly working himself back to his feet, John glanced at the Hulk, who was recovering as well. Not letting up, John shot forward, ripping up the ground underneath.

' _He's getting stronger, but I'm still faster. And I can fly.'_

However, John had underestimated the green behemoth's speed, as when he was about to smash into the Hulk, it clotheslined him in the face, making him crash down with a pained grunt.

Before he could get back up, the Hulk descended on him, mindlessly punching away at John, digging him a little deeper with every punch, creating tremors that could compete with mild earthquakes.

In a desperate move, John lifted both feet, and mule kicked the Hulk with all of his strength, not holding back in the least. There was a sonic boom and a rush of air as the Hulk was lifted off his feet and blasted several yards away, crashing down on the ground with a dull ' _thump_ '.

Getting to one knee, John looked over at his adversary, who was trying to climb out of a new crater made with his body. His hearing picked up the Hulk's laboured breathing, indicating that his last attack had done some significant damage.

The Jade Giant's breathing was evening out at a worrying pace, however, and John could already see that the Hulk was standing steadier on his feet.

John meanwhile was getting tired. Only yesterday had he fought Thor in a no-holds-barred slugfest, and while he had been the winner, it had still wore him out. And now he was fighting the Hulk, trying to go all out while trying to not accidentally kill his friend's alter ego.

' _This is getting nowhere. I need to change tactics. But how?'_ John thought, now standing straight himself.

The Hulk let out a roar and bounded towards John with great strides, each step shattering the ground. Preparing himself, John slid into a low stance that for some reason felt familiar, though he couldn't tell why, having no memory of ever using it before.

Pushing the frustrating thought out of his mind, John narrowed his eyes and closely watched his adversary. The Hulk was now almost upon him, having pushed off and was now flying through the air, one massive fist pulled back in order to deliver a brutal punch.

' _Guess he's isn't too bright, huh?'_ John thought to himself, before ducking down at the last possible moment, the Hulk's fist passing mere inches above his head.

Twisting, John pulled back one fist as the Hulk sailed overhead, waiting until his belly was right above him. Then his fist shot out, backed by him straightening his entire body, putting all of his strength in the attack.

While underneath his feet, the earth cracked in a spider-web pattern, his fist buried itself deep into the Hulk's stomach, the green flesh around it rippling in an odd wave pattern. The Hulk let out a strangled sort of gasp, before he shot up straight into the sky, moving at near supersonic speeds as the air was displaced in great gales of wind.

John squinted his eyes, his sunglasses long since crushed and discarded, following the form of the Hulk as it kept on getting smaller and smaller as it travelled upwards.

' _Come on, think John! What would Steve do?! What would Ray do-'_

Right then, he had a sort of epiphany. Because high up in the sky, barely even visible, was the moon. With a gigantic heart painted on it.

A grin formed on John's face, before he blasted off, leaving a shattering sonic boom in his wake. He quickly closed in on the airborne Hulk, who was gripping at his stomach with a pained expression on his face. It was immediately replaced by one of utter hate, though, the moment he saw John approaching.

Nimbly avoiding the Hulk's flailing arms, John vaulted over the green behemoth, settling himself on his shoulder, slinging both arms across the Jade Giant's massively thick neck. Bracing himself, John took off once more, with a yell of effort that managed to match the roar of rage from the Hulk.

In moments they had passed the limping Helicarrier, and shot even further upwards, towards the clouds. John felt worry gnawing inside of his chest, but forged on, knowing that letting the Hulk loose while he was in such a mindless state would be even worse than whatever fait awaited the crippled S.H.I.E.L.D. base.

Soon after, they shot through the clouds, leaving a trail of vapour behind them as they flew even higher than the veil of mist behind them. John could feel the Hulk still a little underneath his arms, apparently taken aback by the peaceful scenery. While John could sympathize, he couldn't stop and admire the impressive view, and poured on even more speed.

By now, the air was getting noticeably thinner, as the sky turned from a light-blue to an inky black. John could see the earth start to curve at the edges, while the entire continent of North-America started to get smaller and smaller. Around them, the friction of them leaving the atmosphere lit up the air around them in a yellow-reddish glow, while the temperature began to skyrocket.

The Hulk noticed as well, since his struggles continued with even greater desperation, the primal mind of the rage monster apparently recognising just how far up they were.

And how much further John intended to go.

' _Bruce, for your sake, I really hope the Other Guy can survive space.'_ John thought to himself, closing his eyes against the white-hot glow of the atmosphere burning up around them.

The sound, a keening combination of a wail and roar that had continued to grow increasingly louder, suddenly cut off completely, along with the Hulk's roars of rage, as the glow started to fade away.

Cautiously opening his eyes, John grinned as he saw the Earth underneath them; they had managed to leave its atmosphere and were now in space. Quickly checking if the Hulk was still alive, John gave an inaudible sigh of relief as he saw the behemoth's bloodshot eyes flicker around in fear.

Not wasting a moment, John shot off for the final leg of their journey, flying past satellites and the odd space station at impossibly fast speeds. Without any air-resistance slowing him down, John's immense speed was increased even further, and soon the Earth began to rapidly shrink behind them.

Meanwhile the moon was steadily getting larger.

It took maybe all of five minutes before John reached the moon, though it felt longer, due to worry not only for Steve and the others on the damaged Helicarrier, but for the Hulk as well; the Other Guy's struggles had begun to progressively weaken the longer they remained in the harsh environment of space.

' _Hold on Bruce. Just a little longer.'_

By now, the moon had almost filled John's entire view; it wouldn't be long before they would reach the surface. Putting on a final burst of speed, John led out a silent yell of effort, before twisting his body and letting go of the Hulk, throwing the Other Guy much like an Olympian would perform a hammer throw.

Though they usually didn't send 7 foot tall rage monsters hurtling through space at the moon.

As low as he was, well within the moon's thin atmosphere in fact, John could see the Hulk's body smash through the top of a mountain, sheering it off completely, before making several ground-shaking impacts on the pock-marked surface of the moon.

Gently floating down towards the final crater the Hulk's body had added to the moon, obscured by a cloud of grey dust, John tried calling out. The thin atmosphere however, warped John's voice, making him sound like a little kid, instead of a full-grown superhero.

"Hulk?! Buddie?! You okay man?!"

…

"Hulk?! _Bruce_?!"

"GRAAAAHH!"

John's eyes widened in shock as a car-sized boulder was sent flying from the dust cloud, missing him only because he managed to drop down several feet at the very last moment, making the rock fly harmlessly overhead.

 _CRASH!_

Well, when I say harmless, I mean that nobody _actually_ got harmed.

Though the now significantly damaged mountain behind John would probably beg to differ.

"Allright, allright, I see that you got some issues, so I'll-"

"GRAAAAAHHH!"

Another boulder, this one even larger than the last, which John had to dodge by rapidly dodging to the left, letting the enormous rock sail by without being hit by it.

"-right, imma leave you alone for now, alright? Just, you know, to let you cool off. Okay? Whoa!"

This time it wasn't a moon-rock John had to dodge, but the Hulk himself, having jumped out of the crater, blasting away all of the dust with the sheer force of his take-off. Quickly grabbing one arm the size of a tree trunk with both hands, John preformed another hammer throw, hurling the Hulk back towards the ground.

The Hulk managed to land safely on his feet though, shattering the ground underneath with the sheer force of the impact and stared back up at John, letting out a rage-fuelled roar. John floated upwards a little, giving his friend's alter ego a pained look.

"Just hang tight, big guy. I promise I'll come get you after this mess is sorted out, allright? Just… just try and cool of, okay?"

Getting only another roar as an answer, John sighed, before looking back towards the Earth up ahead, the blue planet no larger than a basketball at this point. Frowning, John set his mouth in a firm line, before shooting off towards the Earth, leaving the moon and the roaring Hulk behind him.

His other friends still needed him after all.

* * *

Loki sat on the cot inside the glass cage, elbows resting on his knees and hands clenched together. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Agent Coulson, who stood at attention outside of the open door to the prison, though his back was turned to the God of Lies.

The spy had been filled with a giddy energy after Thor had run off to assist Iron Man in keeping this flying fortress in the sky, clearly itching to use his humongous humming and glowing weapon, despite admitting he wasn't really sure what it even did.

However, that excitement had died down after it appeared that they wouldn't be getting any unwanted visitors any time soon, most of the attacking forces either making their way towards the command deck, where Nick Fury and Maria Hill were making their stand, or were held up by Captain America, who was now engaging what seemed to be half of the enemy forces on his own.

And winning, apparently.

Instead, Agent Coulson had silently taken up his guard post after Loki had made his way back into the glass prison, a bland smile still on his non-descript features. After about ten minutes of this, Loki had enough, and finally spat out the question that had been nagging at him ever since this man had vowed to keep him safe.

"Why?"

Not turning around, the spy replied in his usual polite tone, appearing unbothered by the fact he was speaking to a murderous god while carrying a monstrosity of glowing and humming parts of which he didn't know the exact function.

"Why what? Could you clarify please?"

"Why do you wish to keep me safe?" Loki spat, though he was somewhat ashamed to admit that he was glad the spy wasn't looking in his direction right now.

The only person to have seen him this vulnerable before had been his mother in his youth, and his father and brother during those final, horrible moments on the Bifrost.

Both hadn't ended very well for him.

"It's in my job description. It's what I do. It's what S.H.I.E.L.D. does." Came the reply, the agent's tone still a bland and polite, though there was a conviction in the man's face that took Loki by surprise.

"I'm a criminal." Loki said tiredly, surprising himself by saying it out loud. He hadn't really meant for that to happen.

The spy simply chuckled warmly.

"I have some experience with criminals. They usually turn out to be less bad than most people think. Themselves included."

Finally, the agent glanced over his shoulder, taking in Loki's defeated form, though there was only warmth in the man's gaze.

"You could say I have some, affinity, for strays."

Loki frowned at the words.

"The assassin and the bowman."

It wasn't a question. Both knew how Loki managed to gain that information, and neither one of them really wanted to talk about it. So instead, Coulson simply nodded, a fond smile on his face.

"The assassin and the bowman," he agreed, "though they go by Black Widow and Hawkeye now."

"And the fact that I… _harmed_ your Hawkeye, it doesn't fill you with hate against me? Or my other… deeds?"

At this, Coulson shrugged, making the massive monstrosity in his hands heave uncomfortably up and down. Loki swallowed a gulp.

"At first, yes. While I didn't know any of the victims of your arrival on a personal level, they were still my colleagues. Not to mention you had taken control of Hawkeye, one of my Wards, which would almost inevitably bring him into conflict with Black Widow, my other Ward."

Again, the spy glanced back over his shoulder at Loki, though the god could now easily see the hidden steel in the man's gaze.

"They both have had rather unfortunate lives up until now, and have largely each other to thank for it being better now than it used to be. So you can imagine the kind of fall-out this will have, emotionally and otherwise, for the both of them."

Loki winced, before forcing himself to continue, finding that he was filled with a need to know, to understand this mysterious human, this mortal that defied everything that Loki had thought he knew from his time in Asgard and… afterwards.

"Then why do you not hate me? My ledger is flowing with red, Agent Coulson."

Hearing the man chuckle, Loki's eyes shot upwards, expecting to find the now familiar derision he had seen directed his way for millennia now. However, he was surprised when he saw that the Agent wasn't looking at him with a sneer or even pity.

Instead, there was… understanding?

"So is that of Natasha. And Clint's wasn't exactly clean to begin with. None of ours are, here at S.H.I.E.L.D. We try to be the good guys, by fighting the bad guys, but sometimes, the only way to do that is to do some pretty bad things." The spy said sadly, obviously regretting that part of his life.

"So, your, less than stellar, ledger isn't something I haven't seen before. But the real reason why I've stopped hating you is because of what I saw when you and your brother had your talks. Both times, in fact. Of course, Hancock figuring out that you weren't operating on your own power helped-"

"That's not true." Loki whispered, eyes fixed on the noses of his shoes, somehow finding himself unable to look the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent in the eye.

"Oh?" he heard Coulson ask, and was that his imagination, or was the humming of the gun just a little louder now?

Quickly forging on, Loki continued.

"The sceptre enslaved me, yes, but it didn't control every action like I was some kind of puppet on strings. It took all of my hate, and all of my pain, and all of my fears and enlarged them, until I couldn't even think straight. Then it pointed me towards Earth, whispering dark promises in my ear, promising all that I could ever want, if I would only submit to… to _him_. And I did." Loki spoke, his voice cracking sometime during his tale.

He didn't know why he was spilling his guts to a spy he hardly even knew, but he felt somewhat better now that he had told _someone_ at least. It was as if an invisible weight had been lifted off his shoulders, or an unnoticeable vice released from around his neck.

His hearing picked up the footsteps of the Agent as he stepped into Loki's cell. The God of Lies closed his eyes, accepting what was to come.

' _This is it then. This is where I die, where I finally pay for all of my sins. Thor… Mother…. F-father….'_ Loki thought to himself, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

But the final blow never came. Instead, he felt a warm hand grip his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. Opening his eyes in confusion, Loki looked Coulson straight in the eye, who was bending over towards him with a smile on his face.

"It's okay. I forgive you."

' _W-What?'_

Loki's brain screeched to a halt. Did that just happen? Did Coulson just really say that he forgave him? Something inside of him, a damn he wasn't even aware existed, burst at finally hearing those words, the words he hadn't known he ached to hear ever since he had committed his terrible crimes.

"Thank you. Thankyou thankyouthankyou…" Loki whispered, as he drew shuddering breaths, tears now flowing freely from his eyes.

"It's okay. It's all going to be okay. I promise." Coulson murmured, tightening his grip on Loki's shoulder as he kept on repeating those words.

Looking up at the spy, Loki opened his mouth, maybe to offer words of gratitude? Say a simple thank you, or perhaps something more profound? He would never find out.

As if stuck in slow-motion, he saw over Coulson's shoulder how the door to his room hissed open, three men in S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform running though. Coulson, seeing his attention was focused on something behind him, and probably having heard the hiss of the door, straightened himself and turned around, massive gun at the ready.

However, upon seeing the familiar uniforms, Coulson didn't press the trigger, instead starting to lower the gun. But something felt wrong to Loki, something that itched at the back of his mind. It all clicked when he saw one of the men carrying the damned sceptre, while another started to raise his gun.

"Coulson! Watch out!" he yelled, as he sprung up, but it was as if he was stuck underwater, trying to move against the current, his movements slowed and the sound of his voice sounding as if it was muted somehow.

In mounting horror, he saw understanding dawn on Coulson's face, as the spy started to bring the monstrous gun to bear.

He was too late.

Far, _far_ too late.

 _Ratatatata!_

Blood spurted from Coulson's chest, the man thrown against the wall of the prison by the sheer force of the bullets slamming into his body.

Slowly, the Agent's body slid down towards the ground, enormous gun still gripped tightly in his hand, leaving an enormous red smear on the glass wall of the cage.

"NO!" Loki yelled, eyes wide in fear.

Throwing himself on Coulson's body, he started putting his hands on the man's torso, trying to stop the bleeding, but there was _just so much of it…_

"Damned it all, Coulson! Don't die on me now! You promised everything would get better! You promised-" Loki was cut off in his tirade by a sob ripping itself from his throat.

"You promised." He repeated weakly.

The sound of heavy boots hitting metal made his head snap up, seeing the three shooters in S.H.I.E.L.D. fatigues peering down at him.

All of them with icy blue eyes.

"Well, this won't do." The one who had pulled the trigger said, his tone flat and emotionless.

"I agree, the plan _must_ be carried out." The one on the left said, irritation clear in his voice, though it felt… _off_ , somehow. Distant, in an unnatural way.

"The plan must be carried out." The last one echoed, lifting the sceptre he held securely in one hand.

Loki was frozen as his green eyes were glued to the softly glowing blue orb in the head of the sceptre. He didn't even notice that he was shaking like a leaf. Even from this distance, he could feel a pressure against his mind, insidious threats and honeyed whispers, tumbling inside his mind in a rush of unintelligible words.

He felt a sheer panic at the damned things mere presence, but he felt an even greater fear at himself. Because even now, he could feel part of his mind succumbing to the tantalizing offers of power and glory offered by _his_ instrument.

' _And why not? Is it not my due, to be King after all-'_

' _NO! I refuse! Never again! Please, not again!'_

Slowly, the mind-controlled soldier brought the tip of the sceptre closer and closer to Loki's chest, appearing as if he was only moving an inch per second. Loki screamed internally at his body, to do something, anything, to just _move_!

"You _will_ carry out the plan." The sceptre wielding soldier said, a twisted grin on his face.

And the sceptre was now almost touching his chest, and still his body wouldn't move, by Odin's Beard, why couldn't he move-?!

 _BTOOOOOOMMMMM!_

A sudden explosion slammed into the three soldiers, lifting them clear off their feet and sending them sailing into the far wall of the room, the sceptre torn from the mind-controlled mortal's hand and flung to the other side of the room.

Looking back at Coulson with wide eyes and open mouth, Loki saw smoke coming from the now brightly glowing muzzle of the gun, while Coulson himself had a small satisfied smile on his face.

"Ah, so _that's_ what it does."

And then Phil Coulson closed his eyes.

"Coulson!? COULSON!" Loki yelled, his body finally responding to his will again.

"Don't you dare die on me Coulson. I won't let you! I am a _god_ , if I say that you'll live, you're going to live, you understand?! Come ON!" Loki yelled, his hands coming alive with a golden-green glow as he pressed them against the wounds that littered the spy's body.

Hearing the doors hiss open once more, Loki glanced up in fear, only to slightly relax when he saw Captain America stand there. The Captain quickly glanced around the room, famous shield at the ready, before his eyes landed on Coulson's bloodied form.

All the colour drained from the soldier's face, before he shot a suspicious glare at Loki. Loki, however, didn't really have any time to care about that.

"What are you standing around there for, you fool! Get me a medic! NOW!" he yelled.

He turned back to Coulson's bloodied form, missing how Captain America's eyes widened in surprise, before finally noticing the crumpled forms of the S.H.I.E.L.D. clad attackers. Mouth pressed into a thin line, the supersoldier turned around and ran off, trying to get help.

Loki didn't see any of this, magic draining from his hands into Coulson's damaged body, leaving him shaking and sweating. He didn't care though. He simply gritted his teeth, and poured even more magic in the mortal's body, beads of ssweat forming on his brow.

"Come on Coulson! Just hold on!"

The soft hum of the lights overhead was his only answer.

" _Please_ hold on…"

* * *

 **AN:** I think this is the first time I've finished on an actual cliffhanger. Don't hate me?

 **Fun Fact:** Darth Vader was inspired by Marvels Dr. Doom.


	9. Cost and Consequence

**AN:** Hello everyone and thanks so much for your massively positive response to this fic :D I'm sorry I left you all for so long with a cliffhanger and no updates, but I went on holidays and didn't get to write all that much (between forest fires and trying to install a new kitchen and floor, things were rather hectic). However, I'm back now, and looking forward to continuing this story with you guys :)

* * *

 **Chapter 9 – Cost and Consequence**

Clint woke up to what had to be the biggest hang-over in the history of hang-overs. He let out a pitiful moan as the blaring lights overhead slammed into his vulnerable eyes with all the subtlety and grace of a sledgehammer.

"Easy, Clint, easy." A feminine voice soothed him.

' _Nat?'_ he thought, his mind feeling as if it had been stuffed with cotton.

He tried to speak, but only another groan escaped him. Nat, and he could see that it was indeed her, as his eyes had now finally adjusted to the bright lights, immediately handed him a glass of water.

Clint wasn't one to wax poetically about anything at all, really, let alone foodstuff, but he was convinced that single glass of water was the most heavenly and divine thing he had ever tasted in his entire life.

Letting out a satisfied sigh after draining the glass in a single gulp, the archer let his head fall back into the soft pillows of the bed. He winced as he tried to move it, a sharp pain on his temple making itself known amongst the dull throbbing of the rest of his head.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that one." Nat's sultry voice said, though it sounded unusually subdued.

Clint was about to wave it off, until his memories finally caught up with him;

Loki, stepping out of a glowing blue portal.

Loki, touching the middle of his chest with the point of his weird staff.

And then a living nightmare, as his body responded to someone else's will.

Horror, as one hazy image after the next flew before his mind, but with him powerless to affect them.

Him, leading enemies of S.H.I.E.L.D. onto the Helicarrier-

With a shout he surged out of the hospital bed, trying his hardest to ignore the spinning of the room and the ringing inside his head. Two delicate hands softly, but firmly, started pressing him back onto the bed.

He wanted to protest, he really did, but he just felt so… _tired_.

"How many? How many did I-?"

" _Don't_. Don't do that to yourself Clint."

"I _have_ to know Nat. I have to."

Silence fell across the small medical bay as he stared at the ex-assassin, before she finally turned away.

"Most of the damage done to the Helicarrier and its personnel were done during the initial stage of the boarding. After that, Captain America and Tony Stark managed to contain and defeat a significant portion of the enemy, while Agent Hill and Director Fury managed to barricade themselves on the command deck. Power to the Helicarrier's flight system was restored by a combined effort of Tony Stark and Thor."

Clint grunted in annoyance, but relented for now. If Nat didn't want to tell him, than fat chance he'd ever get it out of her. Better take what he managed to get and run with it.

"The plan, we had a plan. We were going to-"

"Release the Hulk, then leave with Loki, leaving us crippled and unable to intervene with his further plans. Luckily, the Hulk was removed from the Helicarrier by Hancock before he could cripple the ship."

Clint just blinked a few times before letting his head fall back onto the pillows with a hollow laugh.

"Damn, Nat, I knew you were good, but _that_ good?"

An awkward pause fell, as the red head pointedly averted her eyes.

"Well, we had help."

Following her gaze, Clint fell upon another figure, lying in a hospital bed as well, sheets pulled up to their chest. It was a stark contrast to the armoured golden form that had haunted Clint's living nightmare these past few days, now more resembling him when he and Clint had first met.

Because lying ten feet away from him, face sunken in and oily hear spread listlessly around his head, was an unconscious Loki.

Clint only realised he had thrown himself out of the bed and halfway towards the god after Nat had tackled him in mid-air, and wrestled him to the ground. He didn't understand why she did that, they needed information, perhaps? But, quite frankly, he didn't give a damn.

"Let me go Nat! Let me go!" he screamed.

Screamed. Not yelled. Not commanded. Not roared. Screamed, with tears coming from his eyes, and snot and spit flowing down his face.

"Clint NO!"

"I'M GONNA KILL THE FUCKER!"

"CLINT!"

"I'M GONNA PAY HIM BACK, FOR _EVERYTHING HE MADE ME DO!_ "

"HE SAVED COULSON!"

Clint stopped his struggling, chest heaving even as his throat burned with every desperate gulp of air.

"What?" he whispered in a small, hoarse voice.

He could feel Nat tense on his back, before she relaxed, her extreme exhaustion only now visible to him.

"Coulson was assigned as protection detail to Loki, who told us the plan when you attacked. Some of the operatives in S.H.I.E.L.D. gear managed to get to Loki's cell and gunned Phil down. He managed to kill them in return but was fading fast. None of our medics would have been fast enough to save him."

He could see Nat turn her gaze on the unconscious god, disdain, pity, fear and gratitude a storm of emotions in her eyes.

"He saved Coulson long enough for our medics to get to him. Dumped damn near everything he had in keeping Phil alive, almost killing himself in the process."

Clint's stressed and tired mind simply gave up, and he collapsed in an undignified heap on the med bay's floor. He didn't care.

"Why? Why reveal the plan, why save Coulson?" He whispered in a defeated tone.

Nat got off of him and gently pulled him up on his feet, before slinging one of his arms around her shoulders and walking him back to his bed.

"He was under the influence of the sceptre as well, Clint. Not as directly as you and the others perhaps, but far more deeply and subtle."

She gently set him down on the soft mattress, before pushing him to lay down again. Clint didn't resist. He simply didn't have the energy anymore to do so.

Hell, he didn't have any energy to do anything at all, except for staring at the god ten feet away and listen as Nat tried to make sense of the world to him.

"Remember when you found out that I had never seen Lord of the Rings?"

Taken off guard by the random question, the archer just nodded, though his eyes didn't leave Loki for even a second.

"Yeah, we held a marathon. Extended versions and everything."

"Well, the sceptre and the Ring, they work in rather the same way, though the sceptre can also control other people by just touching them. Loki was enslaved and twisted by the sceptre, kinda like Frodo was by the Ring."

Finally tearing his eyes of the Norse god, Clint turned his eyes to gawk at the red head.

"You're shitting me."

"Nope. It even tried to turn us on each other without any of us noticing, before your attack interrupted it." Nat said with a bleak smile, trying to inflict humour into her words.

It didn't really work though. Clint's thoughts flashed back to the attack he had led on his own comrades, though the vague and blurry images were fading fast, leaving him with only a sense of shame and self-loathing.

Because of him, their base was crippled.

Because of him, friends and colleagues had lost their lives.

Because of him, Coulson… _Phil_ had almost died.

' _Oh God, Phil.'_

He wanted to speak, but no words managed to escape his mouth. Nat clearly understood him though, because she gently placed her hand on his arm with a reassuring smile.

"Phil's gonna pull through, Clint. Loki's magic managed to stop major bleeding and kept his organs from shutting down. The medics are convinced that they can save him." She said with a watery smile.

Clint wanted to believe her, he really did. God, there was nothing more that he had ever wanted to believe in so desperately as this in his entire life. But Clint had been a spy and assassin in a world of shadows for far too long to let himself be deceived.

Even if he wanted to.

"What aren't you telling me Nat."

It wasn't a question; both knew that was the truth, and both knew he wouldn't let this drop. Not when it concerned Coulson.

Giving a shuddering sigh, Nat withdrew her hand and wrapped her arms around herself. Clint absently noticed he missed the now suddenly absent warmth of her skin on his.

"There was no organ failure, and the blood loss was manageable… But the damage to his body was extensive, Clint. He got shot nine times in his chest alone. They managed to save his life, but with all the impairment to most of his vital organs… he'll never be an agent again."

* * *

John walked through the automatic doors up to the command centre in just his civvies, occasionally dodging the frantic S.H.I.E.L.D. agent running back and forth. After John had come crashing into the Helicarrier again, smoking from the heat of re-entry, it had been quickly apparent that his suit hadn't quite managed to weather the trip as he had done.

Quickly shambling off to the showers before there could be another 'Burning-Warehouse-Makes-You-In-The-Mood-For-Icecream-YouTube-Incident', John had switched to his regular clothes, and with some regret had thrown his thoroughly ruined outfit in the trash.

Ray was an amazingly PR-savvy, but a superhero-outfit-provider he was not. Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. could whip him up something more durable? Or perhaps even Asgard, since he was apparently buddies with their King's dad?

For now, however, he was confined to just his regular wear of t-shirt and shorts, his trusty eagle themed cap firmly on his head.

So he didn't look the part of reformed hero anymore, who cares, he did just flew to the moon and back, he thought he deserved a small break in the way he dressed.

Letting his eyes roam around the command centre of the battered Helicarrier, John was pleased to see that despite the multitude of damage that covered just about everything in sight, S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel was still diligently at work with whatever they still had at their disposal, trying to run diagnostics and damage reports as best they could.

An obsidian monolith amongst the chaos and destruction, Fury was standing ramrod straight as he oversaw the various attempts of the crew to mitigate the damage and loss they had suffered.

Looking around, he saw Steve and Tony pacing around, muttering to themselves as well as each other. Figured the two would team up on this actually; Steve was too much a soldier and a leader to simply sit around and not think of the next plan of attack, to anticipate the coming battle, to prepare for the following stage of the war.

Tony, like his father, was simply far too active to just simply sit around period. Add to that, that Tony had a far more vindictive streak than his father, and he too would be chomping at the bit for pay-back.

' _Not that there's really anybody to give pay-back to anymore.'_ mused John as he looked at Thor, who was staring off into space with a worried frown on his face, massive arms crossed over an equally massive chest in deep thought.

The news that Loki had almost killed himself trying to keep Coulson alive had been a shock to many of them. Yes, they now knew that Loki hadn't been in complete control of his actions, but then again, he had been unhinged before Thanos had managed to get his claws into the troubled god's psyche.

But this selfless act for a man as well-liked as Coulson had earned him a lot of goodwill.

Perhaps there was still a chance at redemption for Loki after all.

He walked over to Thor, who let out a small smile when he saw him.

"Hail Astartes. Your battle with the Hulk is truly the stuff of legends. Well, more of your legends in any case." The Thunder God rumbled abashedly, a blush on his cheeks.

Still weirded out by the Asgardian's reverence for him, John nonetheless tried to stay friendly.

"I heard you did quite a number on the enemy Quinjets; saved a lot of lives doing that."

Thor merely scoffed, a harsh and deep sound, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Aye, though it was no great challenge. Destructive and agile they may be, the Air is still my domain. They stood no chance against my might, or that of Mjolnir."

"I bet they didn't." John simply said with a smile, because honestly, what else could you possibly say against something like that?

A semi-comfortable silence fell between the two immortals. While Thor was probably as comfortable as the situation allowed, John was anything but. Not only was he still tense from the brutal fight with the Hulk, the toughest opponent he could remember facing, but he still had a lot of questions for the God of Thunder.

Yes, he now knew more about his past and who he was than he ever had before, since both times waking up in the hospital, eighty years ago, and four years ago.

But there was still so much more that he didn't know.

About the other Eternals, and the Deviants.

About the Titans, of which Thanos was descended and who had slaughtered them all.

About the Celestials, who had played god with the humans so long ago, and created from them other gods in return.

But when he opened his mouth, none of these questions managed to come out. So instead, he asked about something else.

"Your brother, is he-?"

"Loki's fine. Merely resting. He will recover in time." Thor said hastily, sounding as if he was trying to reassure himself as much as John.

John simply nodded, before a silence fell once more, Steve and Tony's frantic whispering and an occasional booming command from Fury clearly audible in the back ground.

"It was a good thing, what your brother did. Brave too." John heard himself suddenly say.

Thor's face split into a grin bright enough to rival the sun, though John could still see worry in the god's eyes.

"Aye. I do not know what the Son of Coul has managed to say to Loki for him to risk his life like that, but he has my eternal gratitude for it. Seeing Loki's selflessness… it gives me hope, however fleeting it may prove to be."

John didn't really know what to say to the heartfelt confession, so he simply lifted a hand and patted the God on his broad shoulder.

Right before their companionable silence could turn awkward a shout from Tony made them both whip around in alarm.

"Son of a bitch!"

"What, what is it?" Steve asked hurriedly, as John and Thor approached the duo.

Tony looked at them with a mix of a grin and a frown, even as his eyes flashed in anticipation of battle.

"I know where the Cube is gonna be."

There was a brief silence on deck as everybody digested the inventor's words, before John cleared his throat with a cough.

"Right, uh, I'll guess I'll just, you know, pick up the Hulk then, shall I?"

* * *

Tony soared ahead of the Quinjet carrying Captain America, Black Widow and a recently un-brainwashed Hawkeye. Keeping up with the Jet was Thor, who was flying with the aid of Mjolnir.

Which, the science part of Tony (which admittedly consisted of all of him) kept on insisting was total bullshit; physics didn't work that way, and even if they did, it would still mean that Thor should be unable to turn in mid-air or hover, both things he had demonstrated before.

A blinking warning sign on his HUD brought Tony's attention back to the task at hand, instead of Norse Gods and their physics defying toys.

' _Right, focus Tony. Get to the cube, stop whoever is working on it from activating the thing. Loki switched sides, for now at least, so that's the biggest obstacle possibly defending the Tesseract taken care of.'_

As he pushed his battered suit to its limits, soon New York came into view. Standing as a shining beacon amongst the other skyscrapers, Stark Tower was easily visible from miles away.

And the suit's sensors detected a massive energy output coming from the balcony.

"Jarvis, shut off the Arc Reactor. That should keep them from leeching any energy from it to kick-start… whatever it is they're trying to do."

"Sir, I've already done so, but the Cube is already self-sustaining."

' _Shit. Well, there goes that plan.'_ Tony thought sourly to himself.

By now, he had come close enough that he could see the device that held the Tesseract contained. What he saw however, took him completely off-guard.

"That looks like-" he breathed.

"A modified Arc Reactor, sir, using the element of your creation." Jarvis finished, his voice equally subdued as Tony's.

For a moment, both were silent, trying to grasp the complications of this.

"Of course, in a way it makes sense; dad created the Arc Reactor with the Tesseract in mind, which it never worked before. And he must have spent decades studying the thing…"

Suddenly Tony let out an incredulous laugh.

"Did I really synthesise the Tesseract? The 'Jewel of Odin's Court'?" he asked himself.

"It would seem to be the case, sir. However, may I alert you to the fact that you are about to make contact with, what appears to be, Dr. Selvig."

Shoving the whirlwind of thoughts to the back of his mind, for now, Tony focused on what he had to do.

"Jarvis, get the Mark 7 ready for deployment as soon as possible. I need a new suit."

"Sir, it is not yet ready for deployment-"

"Then skip the spinning rims, we're on the clock."

"… Of course, sir."

By now, he was floating above the pseudo-Tesseract powered-Arc Reactor. Using his external speakers, he raised both hands, repulsors coming to life with their familiar whine.

" **Dr. Selvig. Shut it down."**

The dishevelled looking man turned to him with a surprised look on his face. It was quickly replaced by one of awe and excitement, ice blue eyes alight with wonder.

"It's too late! She can't stop now! She wants to show us something!"

The doctor turned to look up to the sky, a manic grin on his face.

"A new universe." He breathed reverently.

" **Right. Okay then."**

And with that, Tony fired, only for a blue shield to from around the Tesseract, glowing brightly, before emitting a shockwave, blasting both him and Selvig away. Tony quickly managed to right himself in the air, but Dr. Selvig appeared out for the count.

' _Hopefully, what worked on Loki and Hawkeye will work for him too.'_

"Sir, it appears to be made entirely of energy. It's unbreachable."

"Yeah, I got that part."

He quickly flew down towards the console Dr. Selvig had stood at only moments before, desperately trying to make sense of the garbled mess that showed on the screen. He quickly stepped out of his damaged suit, and cracked his fingers.

The suit was simply too bulky to interact with whatever Selvig's enslaved mind had come up with, this needed a more… _personal_ touch.

"How about if I… no, no, no, that won't do at all… but if I… maybe… though of course you'd need to consider…" Tony mumbled to himself, fingers flying across the keyboards in a blur, desperately trying to give the Tesseract a 'power down' order.

But it appeared more and more as if Selvig had been right; the Tesseract seemed determined to continue with its original function, any change Tony tried to make denied, subverted or made obsolete by a veritable mass of loopholes.

And then, right as the sound of thunder heralded Thor's approach, and consequently the following Quinjet, the Tesseract achieved its goal.

A beam, bright enough that Tony had to shield his eyes from it, shot up from the spinning part on top of the pseudo-arc reactor, shooting about a mile straight up into the sky, where it started to… twist, the space around it, as if it were sucked away through a straw.

At the end of the beam, a black spot sprang into existence, and it started rapidly expanding, creating an inky black circle easily a mile in diameter. And from this hole in reality, like a great swarm of ants, an army rained down from the sky.

"Right. Jarvis. I'm going to need the Mark 7 unit, like, _right now_."

"Agreed sir."

* * *

 **AN:** Yay, Coulson lives! Not without a hefty price though. Loki is starting his first steps towards redemption, but it'll be a long and difficult road. Next chapter will be the battle for New York, and maybe an epilogue, and then we can finally move on from the Avengers movie and forwards into the rest of the mcu! :D

 **Fun Fact:** Robert Downey Jr. kept food hidden all over the lab set and apparently nobody could find where it was, so they just let him continue doing it. In the movie, that's his actual food he's offering and when he was eating, it wasn't scripted. He was just hungry.


	10. The Battle for New York - Part I

**AN:** I wanted to do this in a single chapter, but it's almost 3 AM right now and I'm exhausted. Expect Part II either this weekend or sometime next week. Enjoy! =)

* * *

 **Chapter 10 – The battle for New York / Part I**

The first thing Thor noticed as he flew into the city of New York was the massive beam of white-blue light shooting up into the sky, tearing a hole in the fabric of the sky above.

It was rather hard to miss after all.

The second thing he noticed, was the device from which the beam erupted, no doubt powered by the Tesseract.

What he saw there, however, made his eyes widen in shock.

' _Is that… that looks like Heimdall's Observatory! Loki must've gifted friend Erik with the basics of how it was made!'_

That was a very worrying though; the technology of Asgard was several millennia more advanced than that of Midgard, and that's not even considering the Magic that went hand in hand with science on Thor's home world.

The damage that knowledge could do to a mortal mind didn't bear thinking about.

Not that Thor could really spend much thought on the state of his friend, no matter how worried he was, because coming from the tear in the sky, like a swarm of locusts, descended the vile Chitauri, and soon he had to fight for the realm he loved so much with all that he had.

Already he could spot the red-and-golden form of the Man of Iron, soaring through the enemy, energy blasts and missiles flying in their dozens amongst the Chitauri, felling many in those precious first seconds of battle.

But Tony Stark was but one man, and the enemy were many. For every Chitauri he felled, three more were spat out from the anomaly in the sky, making their way past his armoured ally and into the city.

Sickly purple energy blasts flew out from their misshapen carriages, and Thor watched in horror as they tore into the streets below, sending people and vehicles alike flying like ragdolls, leaving explosions and fires in their wake.

People were screaming in terror, even as they tried to run away, but New York is a heavily populated city and the streets were crowded. In the panic that followed the Chitauri's attack, came stampedes of panicked humans, all trying to get as far away from the death and destruction as possible, trampling their fellows underfoot with the madness that came with fearing for your life.

He saw a group of the extra-dimensional Chitauri heading towards a park in the middle of the city, where he could see many humans running in fear from what had been mere minutes ago a nice pick-nick.

Without hesitation, Thor accelerated, having gone unseen by his enemy in their mad rush to cut down as many humans as possible, before unleashing a storm of lightning, catching all of the aliens in the back, causing many of them to explode, and others to simply tumble to the ground, burned away to a crisp.

He didn't pause on his victory however, immediately continuing to where he had last seen Stark, certain that his ally would be in the thick of it, smiting any Chitauri he encountered on the way, of which there were distressingly many.

A faint booming noise made him look up in surprise, even as a nonchalant back-swing with the Mighty Mjolnir took a passing Chitauri's head clean off.

"Black Widow, are you finally approaching?" he spoke aloud, thankful for the tiny communications unit that fitted neatly inside his ear, offered by the Hawkeye before they departed.

It crackled to life, before Black Widow's voice came through, even as Thor continued smiting anything in sight that wasn't of this universe.

+ _No Thor, we are still about five minutes out from New York, why?_ +

The Thunder God furrowed his brow, as he stared down a small contingent of Chitauri soldiers, all of them lined up and facing him with their weapons charged.

' _Astartes cannot have returned from his mission yet, so who-'_ Thor thought, hammer whirling in order to defend himself.

He was cut off in his thoughts when a black blur smashed into the Chitauri, leaving only bits and pieces falling to the ground. The blur, creating a sonic boom, flew upwards, smashing into every Chitauri soldier it encountered, before finally looping back, leaving Thor's surroundings (and himself) covered in raining-down alien parts.

The black streak came to a sudden stop in front of Thor, the abrupt halt whipping the wind around them in a heavy gale, making the Thunder God's cape billow out behind him and forcing him to cover his eyes.

When he removed his arm, he was greeted by the sight of a stunningly beautiful woman, who, like him, was hovering in the air, completely unaided. She crossed her arms, and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Big dude in armour, wielding an oversized hammer, and who calls lightning down from the sky. Let me guess, you're Thor, right?"

Numbly, Thor nodded. The female hovered closer to him, until she was only an arms-length away, and narrowed her eyes, making the Norse God gulp in nervousness.

"I have questions. You have answers. After this, we're going to have a talk."

To which Thor could do nothing else but reply with a quick nod and a submissive 'of course, my lady'.

The woman snorted, before backing up a little.

"Well, what are you floating around for? There are plenty more of these alien assholes; get back to blasting them out of the sky."

And with that order, the woman shot off, a sonic boom trailing in her wake, off to do battle once more against the invaders. Left in the suddenly silent street, Thor blinked a few times in confused stupor, before snapping off a sloppy salute to no one in particular.

"Certainly, my lady."

And with that, he twirled Mjolnir once, more, before letting the mighty weapon fly into his enemies, a grin on his face and lightning dancing in his eyes.

* * *

Phil awoke slowly, his body feeling numb and his mind feeling hazy. As he let his eyes roam across the room he found himself in, he started going over what happened inside his head.

He remembered getting shot.

He reckoned he would remember _that_ moment for many sleepless nights to come.

He remembered firing his cannon (after seeing what it could do, Phil didn't feel right calling the majestic thing a mere 'gun' anymore) and he remembered bleeding out on the floor of Loki's cell…

He could even vaguely recall Loki's tear-streaked face, hovering above him.

But after that, he could only remember darkness. He thought he was going to die, and had surprisingly little regrets, he found out.

Not coming over more smoothly with Captain Rogers and John Hancock, for instance. Not being nicer to Jane Foster, when he had taken away her entire lifework in New Mexico. _Audrey_ -

Cutting himself off before his thoughts could turn down a darker path, Phil tried to assess the situation.

He wasn't dead, even though he definitely should be. Which meant that either someone, somehow, had managed to save him before he died, or he did die, and someone had managed to bring him back.

Phil's eyes shot open in fear, his hands balling into fists.

' _Oh no! No, no, no, what if they-'_

"We didn't use Project T.A.H.I.T.I., Agent Coulson. You can stop trying to choke the life out of your blankets now."

Glancing up at the rough voice, Phil only now saw Director Nick Fury, sitting at his bedside.

' _How long has he been sitting there?'_

"For just about every second that I could spare not being on deck on the Helicarrier. Agent Romanov alternated between here and where Agent Barton is hospitalized."

Phil blinked in surprise, though he slowly started to calm down.

' _Can he read my thoughts?'_

" _I'm_ not, though I know a guy who could. You're just talking aloud, Coulson." The Director said, a smile dancing around his lips.

It was such an odd and unusual sight, that Phil couldn't help but blurt out his next question.

"Sir, are you allright?"

There was a brief pause, as an incredulous look came across Fury's face, before the one-eyed Director let out a barking laugh.

"Ha, he gets shot, and the first thing he does is ask _me_ if _I'm_ allright! Coulson, if anything, _I_ should be asking _you_ how you are feeling. So-"

And with that, the mirth bled away from the Director's tone, as he sat forwards in his chair, hands clasped underneath his chin.

"- how _are_ you feeling, Agent Coulson?"

Phil didn't answer immediately, mentally checking himself over, even as he lifted his arms, clenched and unclenched his hands and wiggled his big toes. Finally he gave a small nod.

"I feel numb and really sore at the same time, sir, but other than that I'm ready for duty."

A small, genuine smile appeared on Fury's face.

"I'm glad you're okay, Phil. I really am."

Surprised at the dramatically emotional display from the stoic Director, Phil simply nodded.

"Thank you, sir."

Fury nodded back, before looking at the floor between the tips of his heavy-duty boots, a weary sigh escaping him.

Feeling worry coil inside his gut at the Director's defeated look (something that had been unconceivable to Phil until he was seeing it with his own eyes) the wounded agent sat up a little straighter in bed, failing to hide a wince as he could feel the wounds in his chest and arms flare up.

' _There are so many…'_ Phil thought to himself, morbid wonder at the multitude of the sheer amount of injuries that littered his body.

"Sir, what's wrong?" he asked aloud, proud that his voice barely wavered.

Fury remained silent for a few long moments, before tiredly raising his head. Phil was taken aback by just how _old_ the Director suddenly looked, starkly reminded that Nick Fury had been a contemporary of both Captain America and John Hancock.

"Phil, about you being ready for duty… you're not."

"Sir?"

"You may think you feel fine, but that's because there's a flood of drugs flowing through your veins right now. You got hurt Phil, you got hurt really bad. I'm sorry, but with the damage you sustained, I cannot allow you to remain a field agent, effective immediately. I'm sorry."

For a long while, Phil just sat there, staring at the Director with wide, uncomprehending eyes.

"But… but I'm healed… I'm alive right?"

Fury slowly shook his head, his face grim and his eye filled with grief.

"You only survived because of _literal_ divine intervention Phil. Loki poured his entire magical reserves into you, keeping the blood loss to a minimum and keeping your organs from shutting down, just so you could _survive_. He couldn't heal you; not enough time, not enough energy. We had to use whatever was left that hadn't been destroyed during the attack on the Helicarrier. Which means, that we had to heal all of your wounds the old-fashioned way and with limited supplies at that."

Again a long pause fell, only disturbed by the steady, slow beating of Phil's heart monitor.

"I am sorry, Phil. I really am." Fury said after a while, and Phil could tell that the old Director meant every word.

"Thank you, sir. It's just… it's a lot to take in."

Fury nodded, before getting to his feet, finger pressed to his ear.

"Agent Hill has managed to get most of our communications back online, which means I'm needed on deck. Will you be allright, Agent Coulson?"

Recognizing the change in address, Phil raised a hand to his temple, giving a firm nod.

"Yes, sir."

"At ease soldier."

With that, Fury whirled around, his long-coat flaring out behind him as he strode towards the exit of the med-bay. As he was standing in the opening however, he paused, before turning to look back at Phil over his shoulder.

"I know that you're neither dead nor dying, but we could still use Project T.A.H.I.T.I. if you want-"

"NO!"

Realizing only that he had shouted after he had heard his voice echoing through the small room, Phil ducked his head, impressive blush on his face as he coughed into his hand.

"Uh, I mean, no, sir, no that won't be necessary. I'll figure something out… eventually."

Fury spent a long moment, critically looking him up and down again, before making to leave for his command post.

"Sir! Barton, is he-"

"- Natasha managed to bring him back. Cerebral recalibration, or as I like to call it, a _really_ hard blow to the head, removes the mind-control, as she found out."

The Director sounded faintly amused at that, and Phil quickly asked his second question.

"Sir, and Loki?"

"Resting in the med-bay on the second deck. He's still unconscious, from our latest reports."

"Thank you, sir."

"No problem, Agent Coulson. Get some rest. That's an order."

And with that, Nick Fury stalked out of the med-bay, mind wholly focused on making people _pay_ for harming both his Helicarrier and his friends. Things would end badly for Thanos and his minions, Fury was going to make absolutely _sure_ of it.

Phil fell back into the nice, fluffy pillows with a sigh, staring at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. Absently, his fingers began to trace the various bullet-wounds that liberally lined his torso, the wounds already closed up and scarred over.

' _No doubt Loki's magic at play._ ' Phil thought to himself, his eyes moving about the suddenly confining room.

He had to get out, get away from this place. He didn't know what he was going to do now, but apparently he had ages to figure it out now that he was no longer allowed to be-

'Don't _go there Phil. Focus on something else. Clothes. Clothes are good. Well, at least better than this hospital gown.'_ Phil thought to himself resolutely as he tried to get out of the bed.

It was an arduous task, and once he managed it, he stood on wobbly legs, his chest flaring in pain, but he managed it nonetheless. Looking around the room, Phil spotted a dresser with fresh, folded clothes laid out on top of it.

Looking at the shirt with its many, hellish buttons with trepidation, Phil nonetheless straightened himself and squared his shoulders, even as he set his jaw in the same way he had seen Captain America do countless times in the movies and on his training cards.

"Right." He said, his voice confident, and chin held high, as he took his first step.

And fell flat on his face.

* * *

"I don't see how that's a party."

Steve found that he had to agree with Agent Romanov's dry assessment, even as he swept away the light sheen of sweat on his forehead.

He found it extremely flattering that Coulson had gone through all of the hard work to base his costume on the show outfit he had worn during his touring days, but unfortunately, that outfit had been just that; for show.

Which made the suit he was wearing now not only uncomfortably tight, it was also unwieldy, with its big gloves and weird helmet-mask. So he had ditched the thing, after it started to overheat his head.

Honestly, the rest of him was getting overheated as well, but he suspected that fighting in the nude wasn't socially accepted, whacky future fashion or not.

Maybe he could sit down with Coulson at some point, gently broaching the possibility of making a few alterations to the suit?

Not that it seemed likely that this would ever become a problem, it would seem; Tony's "party" was almost upon them, and currently it encompassed a grand total of two beings:

One, Tony Stark.

And two, a gigantic flying space-whale.

Steve turned to the blonde woman that had shown up to the fight before they had arrived, fighting aliens next to Thor and the Quinjet, before a Chitauri speeder had suicide-bombed the plane, taking out its wing and forcing it to ground.

The woman had in response created hailstorms and tornadoes right out of thin air, smiting dozens of Chitauri in one fell swoop. She had to cancel it quickly though, because the supernatural weather effects had almost immediately begun to wreak havoc on the street below.

When Steve had led the ground-assault, and ordered the police to focus on evacuation efforts and setting up a perimeter, the woman, who Steve had only now been able to identify as John's apparently ex-wife, Mary, had helped tremendously by getting to the people trapped in area's far too dangerous for regular policemen, either due to alien weapon-fire or falling debris, all at a speed that made his head spin.

Now both she and Thor had joined the team on the ground, and looking to him for orders, which Steve considered a little weird, considering two of them were immortal beings, both with millennia of battle experience under their belt.

However, even before his transformation, Steve had never been one to shirk responsibilities, and if they wanted him to lead, then he would do so to the very best of his not inconsiderable abilities.

Looking to Mary and Thor, completely ignoring the gigantic space-whale barrelling towards them at break-neck speeds, Steve asked them a quick question.

"Think you can handle that?"

Thor simply grinned broadly and started twirling his hammer, but was stopped by a hand from Mary on his shoulder. She wasn't looking at the approaching alien, instead looking up at the sky with a smirk on her face.

"It seems we don't have to."

Steve followed her gaze, but saw nothing but an empty blue expanse-

-and a giant approaching alien vessel, intent on eating them.

Just as Steve was about to ask Mary what she meant (those teeth were getting worriedly close) a faint sound, steadily getting louder, made him look back at the sky again. And then he heard it.

"HUUUUUUUUUUUULLLLLKKKKKK!"

And like a green meteor, the Hulk came down from the sky, moving fast enough to appear as a blur, smashing into the top of the space-whale's skull with an impact that visibly distorted the air around them, forcing the giant alien _into_ the street below.

With a horrible screech, and with a lot of upturned asphalt, the giant leviathan slid to a gentle stop before the Avengers, dust billowing out from around them. Standing in a crater on the monster's head, stood the Hulk, arms as thick as tree-trunks crossed in front of a chest as wide as a car, Banner's alter-ego wearing a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Puny alien."

Another blur impacted the road next to the thoroughly smashed space-whale, the battered asphalt shattering underneath its feet. It straightened itself to show itself as John Hancock, once more in a suit, though this time the eagle was more pronounced, with the yellow highlights being replaced by a cool metallic grey.

Whatever could be said about Fury (which was _a lot_ of things, most of them not very nice), the man had a contingency for just about everything, which apparently also included wardrobe malfunction.

Taking of his glasses to show smiling eyes, John approached them with a grin on his face as the Hulk jumped off its impromptu landing spot.

"We haven't missed all the fun, have we?"

"No, John, you haven't. In fact, you and I haven't even started with the fun yet." Came the smooth voice of Mary, as she stalked over to John, whose grin was quickly replaced by a worried expression.

"Heyyy! Mary! Look y'all, Mary is here! Wow! Why are you here?" John laughed nervously even as he tried to retreat from his approaching ex-wife.

"Well, I just _had_ to come when I saw the _alien-invasion_ on TV, or I would feel like you're shutting me out. After all, you're not _talking_ to me anymore. You're not _telling_ me things anymore." Mary said, her tone sweet, but her eyes flashing dangerously.

Meanwhile, John was sweating bullets.

"Listen, Mary, look. I didn't tell you, because, uhh, you know, some pretty intense, stuff, happened, so you know, I just, uhh had to do… stuff." The superhuman rambled, while his counterpart simply raised a single, perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

" **Look, not that I don't enjoy seeing John squirm, because I, like,** _ **really**_ **do, but there's currently something of an alien invasion going on, and we're kinda supposed to stop it."** Tony's voice came, as his armoured form slammed down from the sky, landing on the torn-up road with a metal clang.

"We'll talk when this is over mister." Mary promised, one superhumanly finer poking her ex-husband in the chest, shoving him a little backwards with each poke.

John hurriedly nodded, before he grabbed her hand, his voice becoming deadly serious as any levity bled from his face.

"The moment you feel yourself getting weaker, go back to L.A., grab Ray and Aaron and get them and _you_ as far away from here as you possibly can. Go to Russia or China or something, hell even Antarctica if you have to."

He squeezed her hand tight.

"I'm not losing you again."

Mary looked him in the eyes, searching for something only she knew, before giving a small smile and a nod.

"You won't. I promise."

With that, both Eternals re-joined their little group, though Steve noticed from the corner of his eye that their hands lingered on each other longer than was strictly appropriate.

"So, how are we going to do this?" Agent Romanov asked lightly, studying a Chitauri weapon with a worrying intensity.

" **The energy shield surrounding the Tesseract is unbreachable. We'll need to deal with these guys first before they raze New York to the ground."**

With that said, Iron Man's helmet turned into Steve's direction, the glowing eye-lids revealing no emotion.

" **Call it Cap."**

At those words, Steve's eyes went wide, before he looked around their assembled group, who were all either watching him intently, or giving him encouraging nods. Steeling himself, Steve straightened a little (glad to see a similar reaction in the other Avengers) and breathed deeply.

' _Allright, let's do this.'_

"We need to take away their number advantage. Thor, Mary, John, use your powers to create a bottleneck as close to the portal as you can. Everything that comes out of that hole, you light it up. Tony, as our only other flier, you are on clean-up and containment; anything comes through that bottleneck, you either blast it to pieces, or divert it to the ground, where me and Agent Romanov will act as the ground-forces. Agent Barton, I want you up high, assist Tony however you can, and be our coordinator; you're going to be our eyes during all this. Try and keep a watch on the Tesseract as well; I don't like the idea of it being unguarded and surrounded by the enemy."

All of them gave a nod at their respective parts, even Tony, before the armoured scientist moved towards the bow-man.

" **You gonna need a lift, Legolas?"**

"Sure. Right after somebody tells me how the hell the Hulk's pants survived re-entry… twice!"

" **Simple, they're indestructible. Now better clench up."**

And with a bright flare of his repulsors boots, Iron Man had taken off, Agent Bartron in hand. Thor whirled his hammer, before shooting up into the sky. Mary and John shared a long look, before they both bent their knees and pushed off, blasting up with a sonic boom, creating two deep craters in the torn-up asphalt, leaving only Agent Romanov, the Hulk and Steve on the burning high-way.

Turning towards the giant green behemoth, who was starting to look agitated at all of the fighting going on, Steve caught his attention.

"And Hulk!"

Hearing his name, the rage-monster looked down at Steve, who simply grinned and pointed at the various Chitauri that were scaling New York's skyscrapers.

"Smash."

He got an answering grin in return, a frightening visage on the Hulk's face, before the giant jumped off, leaving behind a crater twice as large as John's or Mary's, and started wreaking havoc amongst the Chitauri forces, putting the fear of himself into the aliens.

Turning towards the assassin, hefting his shield a little higher on his arm, he gave her a nod.

"You ready for this?"

Right on the heels of that question, a lone Chitauri, having been cut off from the rest of the army early in the battle, jumped out from behind the car it was hiding behind, horrible maw opened wide in a terrible roar-

' _BLAM!'_

-only for a now familiar purple blast to catch him right in the chest, and throw him into the car, completely denting it and leaving the alien a smouldering mess.

It didn't get back up.

Turning back towards Agent Romanov, Steve could do nothing but stare dumbfounded as the assassin blew away a little smoke coming from the barrel, before idly spinning the deadly stave in a few intricate movements around her body, before resting it against her shoulder, much like one would with a rifle.

Glancing out of the corner of her eye to Steve, she raised an eyebrow and gave a challenging smirk.

"Oh, I think I'm ready Captain."

* * *

Loki awoke to the sound of mild-mannered cursing. He supposed it was the paradox in that statement more than anything that woke him up really, more than the sound itself.

Opening his eyes, a monumental task, when his eyelids felt as if they were made out of lead, Loki looked at what had managed to wake him from his slumber.

What he saw almost made him jump out of his bed in surprise.

Because, using the most child-friendly curses Loki had ever heard, was Agent Phil Coulson, entering the med-bay with great difficulty, using a walking stick to move around.

Feeling his eyes on him, Coulson looked up, his face drenched in sweat, and gave a smile and a little wave, before focusing on getting himself moving again.

After the longest five minutes of Loki's life, Coulson managed to make it to his bed side, falling heavily into his chair. Loki's sensitive ears picked up the spy's laboured breathing and tried to stifle a grimace at the rattling sound.

Apparently he was unsuccessful, because he heard Coulson chuckling, albeit very weakly.

"Don't look like that; you did the best you could; I'm still alive because of you."

Loki scoffed at that, though the sound was far too soft to be insulting, his exhaustion making itself known.

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be harmed in the first place." He shot back, though his tone lacked any bite.

Coulson shrugged, a movement that was followed by a badly hidden wince of pain, before he continued talking.

"In all fairness, until Mr. Stark goes completely off the deep end and decides to turn his shaver into a fully functional time-travelling machine, there's very little we can do to change the past. All we can do, is live in the present, as we work towards a better future."

Loki looked at the battered Coulson for a long moment, before letting a tired smirk steal across his sunken face.

"Nice speech. Was it the same one you gave Hawkeye and Black Widow when you recruited them for .S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

If the spy was caught off guard or offended, he didn't show it, merely shrugging again, this time, Loki noticed with interest, with a much better hidden wince.

"It was roughly the same, though without the Mr. Stark part. I didn't know him as well back then." Coulson said with his signature smile.

"Well, there is one key difference your overlooking between me and them, Agent Coulson."

"And what might that be?"

"I'm _not_ a victim. Manipulated, yes, and twisted to be someone else's chess piece, certainly, but I am not some tragic hero that can be redeemed with some heart-to-heart conversation." Loki sneered, though all he got in reply was another shrug, this one completely absent from a wince of pain.

"Neither were any of the other Avengers."

At that, Loki was taken aback. He knew how much the Avengers Project meant to the spy thanks to memories stolen from Agent Barton, so to hear Coulson say something so negative about them…

Apparently sensing his confusion, Coulson elaborated.

"Hawkeye was a criminal, before I recruited him, and a pretty dangerous one at that. Black Widow's past is littered with bodies and infamous because of it, even if only half is known for sure. Bruce Banner, for all his genius and gentleness, was still a scientist who worked on a un-government sanctioned project to recreate the supersoldier, and tested an extremely dangerous technique on himself.

And I don't think I have to elaborate on the Hulk himself.

Tony Stark, while brilliant, is also arrogant and self-destructive, and at one point simply couldn't be trusted with his own creations. John Hancock has the longest list of property damage in human history, outdoing even ancient armies, and his ex-wife Mary tore up a large part of L.A. during a lover's spat. And I trust you know all about your brother's… less than heroic deeds in his millennia long life.

All of these people weren't heroes. But they are out there, right now, fighting the good fight, not because they _have_ to, but because they _choose_ to. And that _makes_ them heroes.

It would make _anyone_ a hero."

Loki appeared deep in thought for the longest time after Coulson's speech, which left the spy winded, allowing the Prince of Lies to give his retort in a soft voice.

"But they weren't evil. They didn't plan the death of their father, biological and otherwise. They didn't plan on committing genocide on their own people, undoubtedly plunging the entirety of the Nine Realms into war. They weren't evil, Coulson. I am."

"And why should that mean you can't aspire to do good?"

Loki opened his mouth, but found that for the first time since he could remember in his millennia-long life, he was left speechless.

"Well, I still have to face punishment for my crimes, for one." He said after a few silent minutes, the soft hum of the machinery around them the only sound in the room.

Again Coulson smiled his little smile, before shifting in his chair.

"Tell me, what are punishments supposed to do?"

Loki blinked confused at the odd question, replying with hesitation in his voice.

"They're supposed to punish wrong doings, dispense justice to injustice."

"Wrong. A punishment is supposed to serve as an offenders repentance. And you don't _have_ to go to a cell in order to do your repentance. You're doing nobody any good wasting away behind bars. You can help people, Loki, I'm sure of it."

"And what, join your little group of misfits? Or become an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. perhaps?" Loki sneered back, though he privately admitted those options didn't sound half-bad.

It was better than returning to Asgard, and facing his father.

Facing his _mother_.

"No. Not immediately, at least. Like you said, justice still needs to be done, whether in our Court or that of Asgard. But your "punishment" could certainly become either one of the previous two options. Beats sitting in a cell in any case." Coulson broke through his thoughts, now absently massaging his left shoulder.

"Join the Avengers huh? Start doing good?" Loki mused aloud.

"You can already start doing good right now." A gruff voice interrupted him, making both Loki and Coulson jump up in surprise.

Standing in the doorway, both hands clasped behind his back, Fury's single eye scrutinized them both.

"Glad to see you on your feet Agent Coulson. Now lay down on the bed and take your goddamned rest, or so help me, I _will_ have Agent Hill strap you down."

"Yes, sir. Laying down now, sir." Coulson replied promptly, amusement lining his voice.

Fury snorted at that and turned his single blazing eye on Loki, who couldn't help but feel vulnerable in his weakened state. He tensed as he saw Fury grab something from the unfathomable depths within his trenchcoat, before tossing a small object in his lap.

Turning it over in his hands, Loki recognized it as a headset, drawing on the stolen memories of various S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and mercenaries.

"That'll put you in direct contact with our command deck. You'll see what I see, hear what I hear, and it'll allow you to communicate with the Avengers. They have engaged the Chitauri forces, and are now focusing on evacuation and establishing a perimeter.

Thor, Hancock, and his counterpart Mary, are using their respective powers to create a bottle-neck, but it can fall at any moment, and New York is far from evacuated. If you can offer any advice, then-"

"They share a hive-mind." Loki spoke up softly, cutting off the Director.

Fury's eye widened at the information, before narrowing dangerously.

"Explain."

And, reluctantly, Loki did.

"Larger creatures, or ships, control smaller creatures, who control smaller creatures still. You kill the ships, or cut them off from their army? Then the psychic backlash will fry whatever the Chitauri army has that passes for a brain on _this_ side from the portal."

There was a brief pause, before Fury whirled around and stalked out of the med-bay, leaving without so much as a 'thank you', already talking harshly into his earpiece.

Then again, he had just been told how to save his planet in one fell swoop, so he could be excused in this instance.

As Loki tried to put the head-set on, all the while cursing his weakened arms, Coulson looked at him intently, eyes narrowed in thought.

"How did you know that? About the hive-mind?"

Loki stilled in his movements, before giving an awkward shrug and a clearly false laugh.

"Well, I _was_ supposed to be their general, so…"

But Coulson shook his head.

"You were supposed to be King of Midgard after they conquered the Earth _for you_. You have said so yourself. Oh, I have now doubt that you had to lead them, but you weren't going to be military involved, were you."

It wasn't a question, and for the longest of moments, Loki considered simply not anwering, before letting out a weary sigh.

"Their greatest creatures… their motherships… their minds can be quite vast. Not particularly intelligent, but of a strength and size comparable to a glacier. T-Th… _he_ thought it… _fun_ to test my mind against one of theirs."

Finishing placing the head-set on his, well, head, Loki resolutely didn't look in Phil's direction, hating how vulnerable he felt right now.

"Sometimes I would persevere. Other times… I wouldn't. Those were not happy occasions, to say the least."

Checking his communications channels, Loki was surprised by a firm hand on his shoulder, looking up to see Coulson with a determined expression on his face.

"We're going to make him pay _._ I'll make sure of it. _All of us_ will make sure of it.

The Avengers' got your back Loki."

* * *

 **AN:** Why did I have Steve remove his mask? Because I think his entire suit in Avengers looks like shit. All of his other uniforms are way better, no offence to Coulson.

 **Fun Fact:** To prepare for the role of Hawkeye, Jeremy Renner was trained by Olympic archers. Seriously, check out the dude's arms in the movie; they're almost as big as Thor's or Cap's!


	11. The Battle for New York - Part II

**AN:** And so, after nearly 70k words, we have arrived at the finale of the Avengers. After this, there might be one or two epilogues, before we continue with the next movie in the mcu, and so and so on =) I have a _lot_ of crazy idea's already, and even have chapters planned in which I'll stealthily bring in other franchises as well. After all, doesn't agent Barton look remarkably like another super black-ops operative we all know? ;p

For now, however, enjoy the finale of the Avengers. =)

* * *

 **Chapter 11 – The Battle for New York / Part II**

Lightning flashed overhead New York… and _just_ New York. The city was blanketed by large, dark clouds, while a veritable mass of lightning formed over the down-town area of the Big Apple.

The impressive lightshow was centred around what a appeared to be an inverted version of a sinkhole in the sky, the currents striking at everything that came through, while great gales of wind ripped apart everything else.

Flying on opposite sides of the bottle-neck were Mary and John, who were the source of the localized hurricanes, while the stream of lightning streaked upwards from the metal spire of the Empire State Building, which was lit up like an over-enthusiastic Christmas Tree, where Thor was pointing Mjolnir at the incoming Chitauri.

John suddenly broke off, hurled away by the gales of wind that were howling above New York. He wasn't the only one though, as many of the invading forces were thrown around like ragdolls, only to be smashed apart on the many skyscrapers of the city.

"Mary!" John roared, his voice carrying above the howling of the storm with difficulty.

"What?!"

"I can't hold this up! Hell, I don't even know what _this_ is!"

"You have to! I can't keep this up on my own, and Thor's a bit busy right now!"

At that moment, Thor gave a great cry of effort, before with a final burst of brilliant white lightning, he slumped against the Empire State Building, clearly exhausted from channelling that much electricity for so long.

"Oh that's just _great_!" Mary shouted sarcastically, though even as far away as he was, John could see the worry in his ex-wife's eyes.

Not that her fear was unjustified; their combined powers had barely been enough to stem the endless flood of Chitauri soldiers and space whales. While Stark was picking off everything he could, helped by the uncanny vision of Hawkeye, there were still alien forces that made it past him and into the city itself.

Steve and Black Widow were each formidable, and together they were cutting a swath of death and destruction amongst the invading soldiers, but there were only two of them, and New York is a big city.

On top of that, the massive space whales used their immense weight and bulk to smash through their bottle-neck, acting as lightning rods to Thor's attack so their fellows could come in behind them, and each one carried a platoon of soldiers with them, against which Steve and Black Widow were helpless.

"HUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLKKKK!"

Of course, those that made it through still had to contend with the 'strongest there is', but it was like they were a sieve, trying to stem back the endless tide. They couldn't hold out for much longer as it was, and now with both him and Thor out for the count, at least for now, it was up to Mary to keep the invaders contained.

John could see her grit her teeth, even as the winds started picking up even further, but the multitude of tornadoes were starting to get out of control; already they were eating away at Stark Tower underneath them.

Looking back at the invaders, John growled as he saw another space whale try to smash straight through a tornado that was throwing around Chitauri soldiers as if they were stuck in a gigantic blender.

' _Those space whales are the biggest problem. But how to get rid of them? How do you get rid of a whale_ that _big…'_

As the thought shot through John's mind, he couldn't help but grin. He remembered something that Ray had shown him in order to convince him of his point, now already four years ago.

' _Thanks, YouTube.'_

"Mary! I got a plan!"

" _You_ got a plan?!"

"Yes woman, _I_ got a plan! Be ready to drop the winds when I give the signal!"

"John-!"

"Trust me!"

For a long moment, the two immortals stared each other in the eye, an army of alien invaders caught in a hurricane between them. Finally, he saw Mary give a firm nod, before she focused on smashing apart the Chitauri.

John waited for one of the space whales to emerge from the rip in the sky, flowing through the air in its waving style, surprisingly fast for such a large creature. He waited a little longer, muscles that could bend steel like tissue-paper tensing in anticipation under his new suit, waiting for just the right moment…

Just a little longer…

Just a _little_ longer…

"Mary! NOW!"

Immediately the gales of wind died down in nothingness, throwing many of the Chitauri out of balance as they overcompensated against a hurricane that suddenly wasn't there anymore.

Not giving them the time to regain their bearing, John shot forward, a sonic boom in his wake as he broke the sound barrier in his haste.

There was no time to loose.

Shooting up past the confused space whale, close enough that he could've touched the scarred hide if he'd wanted to, John travelled the entire length of the gargantuan alien, before arriving at its tail.

Twisting in the air, he grabbed the appendage with both hands, his fingers digging deep into the thick skin of the extra-universal alien, before tensing his body.

To the space whale's credit, the moment it felt John grab it by the tail, it tried to both accelerate and whip itself around, either aiming to throw John off, or simply eat him.

John still reacted faster though.

Turning around on his axis, John roared in effort as he swung the space whale around, smashing it into the Chitauri cavalry, who were all too dumbfounded to do much else than stare.

He swung it around once…

Twice…

Three times, before looking at the portal. Another space whale was making its approach to Earth, its massive head already through the rip in the sky. With a yell that deafened the remaining Chitauri around him, John gave a final heave and let go.

The space whale, covered in the splattered remains of it fellows, bellowed in rage as it was hurled upwards, straight towards the incoming alien forces.

It smashed into the incoming space whale with an almighty crash that was heard throughout the city, pushing the newcomer back through the portal, scattering debris and squished Chitauri soldiers on both sides of the dimensional tear.

The space whale that John had manhandled wasn't nearly as lucky as the other Chitauri however.

Having been thrown at the portal, ass over teakettle (or whatever the alien equivalent of that was) it approached the hole in the sky sideways, and had hit the incoming space whale with its centre, which had been pushed through the portal as well.

Its head and tail, however, were outside the portal's edges.

With a terrible screech, the middle part of the alien was carried further back to the other side of the universe, while its head and tail, subject to the same laws of momentum, travelled further… into the sky.

The flesh of the space whale that met the edges of the portal was ripped apart, both sucked in and spat out simultaneously, in a way that made John dizzy when he looked at it.

Suddenly, the horrible screech was cut off, and the alien, now consisting of only a head and a tail, fell back to the city with a thunderous crash, trailing a rain of blueish blood.

There was a silence on the battlefield, as both Earthlings and aliens stared in horror at the decapitated space whale, neither side having ever witness such a brutal and bloody end.

John himself felt faintly sick, but he still forced himself to float a little higher and face the portal, where he could see chaos and a smashed space whale floating beyond.

"You want some more, huh!? There's plenty more where that came from!"

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, as all of the Chitauri still in the air let out rage-fuelled roars, and simultaneously trained their weapons on him.

"Well. Shit."

And then John's world dissolved into a purple lightshow.

* * *

"Director, the Council has come to a decision."

Nick glared at the screens in front of him, not even bothering to hide the derision and disgust on his face.

"I recognize that the Council has come to a decision. But given that it's a stupid-ass decision, I have elected to ignore it."

One of the figures on the screens, shrouded in shadowed lighting spoke up, his voice annoyed.

"Director, you are closer than any of our subs. Now, you scramble that jet-"

"That is the island of Manhattan, Councilman. Until I am _certain_ that my team cannot hold it, I will _not_ order a strike against a civilian population." Nick replied heatedly.

"If we lose here, we lose _everything_." The councilman replied, his voice beyond annoyed.

"If I send that bird out, we already have." Nick said heavily.

With an angry swipe, he disconnected the call with the Council, before closing his eye and taking a deep breath through his nose.

' _Those… those… those_ assholes _! And the worst part is, that they aren't even wrong. Lose a city? Or lose the world? Who could make such a decision?'_

As he opened his eye and stared at the reflection in the empty screens in front of him, he knew the answer.

' _But not yet. Not until there are no other options.'_

With that thought, Nick called up all the visuals that they had on what was happening in New York, either through their own systems, or by hacking everything else. Each Avenger was shown on its individual screen, the footage switching from cell phones, satellite, to security cameras whenever needed, giving a constant feed.

Just as John _threw_ one of the space whales back into the portal.

Nick looked at the screen showing the battle with an expression that could've been hewn from stone. However, it had slipped for a few seconds when he saw the gory consequences of getting cut into pieces by a portal.

He pretended not to notice the way Hill had turned as white as a sheet, and her muttered 'oh god', though he glared _very_ firmly at the agent that had the gall to throw up _on his floor_.

Needless to say, that agent was now frantically searching for a mop somewhere on the Helicarrier.

Still though, what he had seen _had_ been impressive, blood and gore notwithstanding, and it gave Nick a little hope.

' _Maybe. Maybe we can win this.'_

They had three gods, a genius inventor, centuries ahead of his time, and the Hulk on their side, not to mention the greatest soldier that ever lived and two of his best spies.

"It's not going to work."

Nick whirled around at the tired voice, as his eyebrows shot up to where his hairline would be.

Standing on his deck, leaning on Agent Coulson as much as he was supporting him in return, Loki looked at the same screen Nick had been staring at, his sunken eyes and tired tone giving him the appearance of a man who could fall unconscious at any moment.

' _He probably is. And Phil isn't much better.'_ Nick gave his good eye a stern once-over, before giving him a look that clearly said 'this isn't over yet'.

Coulson just shrugged with a small smile on his face.

"You never cancelled the order to keep an eye on him, sir."

Nick snorted, before he turned back towards the exhausted god, who had slowly approached Nick's screen, tired eyes quickly flitting from footage to footage, scrounged up from whatever S.H.I.E.L.D. had managed to get online or hack into.

"And what makes you say that?" he asked in a cold voice.

While Loki may have saved Coulson, he still killed over eighty of his people in the first hour of his arrival on Earth, influenced or not.

It would be a _very_ long time before Nick would trust the God of Lies.

"Because what you have been dealing with so far… that's merely the vanguard, the advanced forces. They are but less than a fraction of _his_ true army. And soon, the portal will be large enough to admit his larger units, such as the Hives and the Motherships." Loki answered, sweat forming on his brow, even as his face gained a pained expression as he described the Chitauri's forces.

But it was something else that caught Nick's attention.

"What did you just say?" he asked harshly, but he didn't bother to wait for the god's answer.

He turned the screen towards him, and zoomed in on the footage that showed the portal itself. And what he saw confirmed his worst fears.

"It _is_ getting bigger." He whispered to himself, but in the silence that hung on the deck, it was still heard by all present.

If possible, Hill turned even whiter, her hand gripping her pistol.

"Sir?"

"Look at the portal, Hill. At the beginning of the battle, a single space whale fit through the damn thing. Now there are three coming through… _at the same time_."

And it was true; on Nick's screen the three space whales were clearly visible as they simultaneously writhed their way through the portal, that only now was noticeably larger than before.

The small figure of John was barely visible as it shot forward, smashing into one of the space whales' skull, clearly denting it, even as the hurricane started back up again, courtesy of Mary.

Still, the third one made it through, its brother sacrificing itself for him by catching the full attack of Thor, who had recovered from his brief breather.

And with it, came a new host of Chitauri soldiers, descending on the population of New York with weapons that man had only ever seen before in the hands of Hydra.

And apparently, many, many more would come, eventually all at the same time.

"Preform a review of all the visuals we have on that portal and give me an estimated growth rate! NOW!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Exponentially. And all-encompassing. This time tomorrow, you'll be looking at a hole in the sky, just as large as the city below it." Loki spoke up, his tone no longer just tired, but defeated as well.

"Thanos can keep up an assault continuously for over a day?" Fury asked sceptically, filing the god's flinch at the Titan's name away for later use.

Loki simply chuckled harshly, his gaunt and sunken face making the sound all the more ghastly.

"Director, he can keep up such an assault for _decades_."

At the god's declaration, several whimpers could be heard amongst the crew of the Helicarrier, who had all fallen silent at his words.

Loki turned towards Nick with a cold smile, but it was empty, and his eyes were haunted.

"Feeling desperate enough yet, Director?" He mocked, recalling their conversation at Loki's cell.

Nick simply growled back, his eye blazing with such determination, it clearly caught the Trickster off guard.

Impossible odds?

Nick beat those every single day, just for a living.

"So what you are _actually_ saying, is that instead of facing the Chitauri army, we need to focus on shutting down the portal, keeping Thanos from bringing in the rest of his army, and killing whatever is already on this side?"

He kept the god's gaze, who had trouble keeping it, he noticed. Finally, it seemed as if Loki had come to some sort of decision, because he gave Nick a small, slow nod.

"Yes." He whispered, green eyes analysing him, trying to understand his motives, his next move, the reason why he still kept on fighting.

"Stark, you hear that?"

There was a brief burst of static, before Tony's voice was heard over the speakers.

"Yeah, just… hang on a bit, will you?"

"Stark?"

"Nothing, nothing, I'm just going to re-enact a Biblical scene."

"Stark, _what_ are you going on about-" Nick grumbled as he looked at the screen showing footage of the Iron Man armour.

Only to be brought to a halt as he saw it get _eaten_ , accompanied by a few high-pitched shrieks (not all female) from the crew on deck. However, it quickly became clear that Stark had done _something_ , as the insides of the gargantuan alien glowed brightly for a few seconds before exploding into a shower of flame and gore.

A tiny figure could be seen ejected from the fiery mess, slamming into the street below, as the space whale, still on fire, crashed a little further down the road.

"Stark, do you read me?!"

There was no reply.

"Stark, do you read me?!"

Still no reply. Nick could see Hill bow her head from the corner of his eye. He frowned in anger, his fist clenching itself with the creak of leather.

"Stark, _dammit_ , do you read me?!"

"Yeah! Yeah, Nick, I'm… well I was going to say _okay_ , but after that…" Tony's shocked voice came to life on the speakers, prompting a small cheer from the assembled S.H.I.E.L.D. crew.

Nick quickly suppressed a smile; they were running out of time, and fast too.

Survive now, celebrate later.

"Stark, did you copy the information provided by Loki?"

"Yes, yes I did. But Nick… it's shielded. None of our weapons will get through. It's impenetrable."

Nick straightened himself slowly, his hands limply hanging by his side. His eye roamed over the agents, who were all staring back at him with expressions ranging from determination, to naked fear.

Hill still had her hand on her gun, and gave him an unnoticeable, but calm and firm nod, saying, in her own way, that she would stick by him to the end, inevitable as it appeared to be.

Coulson was clearly fiddling with something in his pocket, and Nick had a fairly good idea of what it was, his features melancholy, before it was replaced by serenity as he looked back at Nick, his signature smile back on his face.

"Cap never ran. In all of his movies, he never ran." He said softly, his smile growing a little wider.

Looking at how his crew stood a little straighter at those soft words, Nick smiled as well.

"He didn't in the war either. No matter what."

Hill straightened herself, her clear voice ringing out across the deck.

"No matter what."

Slowly, but steadily increasing in speed, the cry was taken up by every single agent on board, their postures now straight, and their expression free of fear.

Nick turned his head to look at Loki, who was staring at them as if they were all mad.

' _Then again, we just might be.'_

"Loki?"

The god appeared startled at Nick's voice, letting his eyes flit over their faces, before it landed on the calm one of Coulson. There was a pause, before a smirk that had been once been infamous on Asgard once more appeared on his face.

He turned back to Nick, and the Director amusedly noticed that the god looked the most alive since he had stepped foot on Earth.

"No matter what."

Nick gave a nod, one meant for both the god as well as his agents, before turning back to the screen. He could see that John was wrestling with one of the space whales, even as two more flew past him. Mary was in her own personal hurricane, but the Chitauri had learned, and stayed out of her reach, peppering her with purple lasers.

Thor had been forced away from the spire of the Empire State Building, because it wasn't _there_ anymore, smashed clean off by one of the Chitauri during the battle, and was now flying through the air, Mjolnir and lighting flying at everything alien in sight.

Iron Man was back on his feet, and preforming manoeuvres that would make the greatest ace pilot look like an amateurish toddler, leading whole squads of Chitauri in kill zones, too-tight turns and straight into the line of fire from Agent Barton, who was picking off key-Chitauri forces, causing mid-air collisions with every loosened arrow.

Captain America was fighting a whole squad of enemy foot soldiers, his shield bouncing impossibly off the road, the buildings, cars and even the Chitauri themselves, before always finding its way back into his waiting hand.

And the Hulk… well the Hulk was barely visible anymore under the barrage of the Chitauri weapons, but since they were slowly moving their fire along the roof the Hulk stood on, he was probably still alive.

They were holding on, but only by the tips of their fingers, and every moment their grip lessened more and more.

Nick opened his mouth, preparing to give the Avengers a 'fight until the bitter end' order, until he saw something that grasped his attention.

Or rather, it was something that he _couldn't_ see.

' _Where's Agent Romanov?_ '

As if she could hear his thoughts (and with all that was out there in the world, you never knew if she couldn't), her voice came over the speakers, her voice light with the adrenaline, and whatever else the Red Room put inside her, running through her veins.

"As touching as that all was, there might be a way to shut the Tesseract down."

Nick didn't bother hiding the hope in his voice as he pressed a finger to his ear.

"And that would be?"

"I have Dr. Selvig here with me."

"How the hell did you get to him?" Loki blurted out.

When Nick gave him a quelling glare, the god just nonchalantly shrugged, though the gesture was somewhat ruined by the clear amount of effort it took to perform the movement.

"I hitched a ride." Came Agent Romanov's dry reply, though she sounded somewhat amused.

Growling, Nick took back control of the conversation.

"Black Widow, what did Dr. Selvig manage to tell you?"

Her response was crisp, her tone just as serious as his.

"He explained that he has built a safe-guard of some kind into the device channelling the portal. He says the power of Loki's sceptre will allow it to pierce through the shield, and shut down the Tesseract, because of the similarity in their energy signatures."

Nick gripped the railing in front of him tightly enough that the leather of his gloves began giving a protesting creak.

"Think you can hold out long enough for a bird to get to your position?"

There was a silence as everybody held their breath, waiting for the Widow's reply.

"Do we have a choice?"

Thinking back to the conversation he just had with the Council, Nick winced.

"No. You don't. Hang tight, a jet will be on his way as soon as possible with Loki's sceptre."

"Yes, sir" came the reply, before the call was cut off.

"I'll take it."

Nicked blinked in surprise at the god's words, the only reason he wasn't immediately suspicious of the offer was because of the sheer terror that was visible in Loki's eyes, even as he tried to mask it.

"And why is that?"

"You have seen what it did to me. It'll do the same to you mortals, only much faster. You send one of your little agents with the sceptre, and _his_ instructions will lead them the furthest away from the Tesseract as possible. _He_ doesn't allow any interference in his plans."

"Yes, I've seen what it has done to you. So what makes you so certain that it won't happen again?" Nick asked sharply, getting a sheepish grin in reply.

"I'm not. But I _am_ certain that it will happen to one of your men. I can't let that happen. I'll take it."

Before Nick could tell the god his decision (or even _make_ on in the first place) a loud voice burst from the speakers, its tone worried.

"No brother, you cannot!" Thor's voice came, though he sounded winded.

A quick look on his screen showed Nick that Thor was currently smashing Mjolnir over and over again into a space whales head, all the while trying to fend off the Chitauri attackers that had been inside of the thing.

"Brother, I must."

"NO!"

"You know it is true."

There was a great cry of grief and rage, and Nick could see how Thor raised a now lightning imbued Mjolnir, before slamming it down into the space whales head, killing it in a final blow.

"Brother…" his voice came, panting and full of hurt.

Loki simply gave a sad smile, before turning away.

"This is the only way."

Before the God of Lies walked away, however, Tony's voice blasted from the speakers.

"Maybe not!" the inventor sounded excited, though it could also be because he was now leading a group of Chitauri on his tail straight into another regiment of aliens, dodging lasers as he went.

"Selvig is a genius! No matter how good your shield is, you can't protect yourself from yourself!"

"Stark, what are you saying?" Nick growled, not in the mood (or having the time) for the billionaire's excitement.

"Don't you get it!? I _synthesized_ the Tesseract! It's powering my Arc Reactor! I can get through the shield!"

"Do it. Stark do it now! Drop whatever you're doing and do it now!" Loki yelled, relief clear on his face, even as his legs started to give out underneath him.

However, Nick saw something that made his remaining eye widen in shock.

"Belay that! Whatever you do Stark, you keep that portal open!"

And with that he ran off, leaving behind a very confused crew and a single, nearly unconscious god.

* * *

John shot through two buildings, leaving shattered windows in his wake, before coming to an abrupt stop in mid-air. Barrelling towards him, far too fast to stop now, was one of the space whales, who lowered its head, intent on ramming him as hard as it could.

John simply turned his torso and ducked his head.

With a thunderous clap, the space whale crashed into him, and its skull was completely crushed, folding around his body like it was made of wet cardboard. The rest of the body, carried forwards by its own momentum, crashed in on itself, pieces of armoured plating shooting away as the flesh underneath deformed into something unrecognizable.

For a long second, the mangled remains of the alien simply hang there in the air, before gravity reasserted itself, and it slowly fell to the ground, leaving a disgusted John hanging in the air, covered in (what he hoped was) brain matter.

+ _Belay that! Whatever you do Stark, you keep that portal open!_ +

John froze in shock, before putting a finger to his ear.

"Y'all heard that, right?"

\+ _What's Fury playing at?_ \+ asked Steve, and John agreed with his friend.

\+ _What I'm playing at, is the fact that the Council just launched a nuke at Manhattan!_ \+ snapped Fury's voice over the comm, making John blanch in shock.

He could (probably) survive a nuke, but the rest of New York? The Council had just doomed several million people.

\+ _Nuke? What is a nuke?_ \+ Thor asked confused, though he clearly picked up on the worry of his teammates.

\+ _It's bad news. Fury, give me the coordinates, I'll intercept-_ \+ Stark began, but John cut him off.

"And do what? We _need_ you Tony. Head to the Tesseract, _I'll_ intercept the nuke, you shut down the portal on my signal."

\+ _What are you going to do, Hancock?_ \+ came Fury's stern voice, the Director clearly still agitated at his Council's decision.

"I'm going to fly it into space. Just not ours."

And with another sonic boom, he took off. Finding the incoming missile was surprisingly easy, it turned out. John simply flew back in the direction he knew where the Helicarrier somewhere was, and kept an eye out for anything approaching that side of the city.

Flying closer to the nuke, who was flying at a speed that was challenging to even Hancock, he flew under it, trying to grab it with his hands above his head. He accelerated even further, feeling both himself and the missile straining against the extreme speed.

' _God, I hope this works.'_

And with that thought, John and the nuke took off.

* * *

Natasha was helping a confused Dr. Selvig to his feet when the Iron Man armour slammed down onto the roof next to them, showering Selvig in gravel and making him jump in fright.

Natasha was unruffled, as she was most of the time, and examined the armour with a critical eye.

Covered in scorch marks and scratches, it certainly looked as if it had just gone through a warzone, which in a way it had.

And it smelled _awful_.

Before the assassin could voice her displeasure, the beaten up armour opened up, allowing an equally beaten up Tony to stumble out of it. Surprised, she quickly went over to the inventor, steading him as well.

Tony looked up sharply when she touched him, but relaxed when he saw it was her, which Natasha only later realized had been the first time outside a select few at S.H.I.E.L.D. that had ever done before.

Looking over her head, Tony exchanged a quick nod with Dr. Selvig, who had a faint glimmer of recognition in his eyes.

"Ahh, Dr. Selvig, a pleasure, though I had hoped we could meet under somewhat more _pleasant_ circumstances. I must say, your work on extra-dimensional thermo-astrodynamics is truly inspiring. However I do have a few questions…"

Heading off the flood of techno-babble she could feel coming, Natasha spoke up, a wary eye on the sky, where both Thor and Mary could be seen trying to fight a veritable swarm of Chitauri, the air filled with storms and the scent of ozone.

"Boys! Can we focus for just a second here? Stark, I thought you had a plan?"

Tony gave a pained expression, his hand briefly rubbing his chest, before giving a decisive nod.

"Right."

And with that he stopped leaning on Natasha and limped over towards the blue shimmering shield around the brightly glowing Tesseract.

"Tony, how are you going to breach the shield without your armour?" Natasha asked, though ice coiled inside her gut as she started to suspect what the inventor had in mind.

The billionaire looked at her with a sad smile on his bloodied face, his expression halfway between absolute calm and unholy terror.

"I said it was my _Arc Reactor_ that could breach the shield, Romanov, not the Iron Man armour."

With a quick movement he took off his shirt, showing the glowing bit of technology firmly planted in the middle of his bruised chest.

A small part of Natasha's mind noticed the fact that both the reactor and the Tesseract were glowing in the _exact_ same colour.

The rest of her mind, however, was simply screaming in horror.

"Tony, NO!"

But Tony wasn't looking at her anymore, instead looking at the Tesseract with a heavy glare.

"Tell Pepper I love her."

And with that he ripped the Arc Reactor straight out of his chest.

* * *

John was straining against the missile, who was getting harder to control every second they spend flying together. Already the panelling from the nuke's hull started to tear away, and it was bucking around like a horse at a rodeo.

John simply grit his teeth, even as his fingers dug in further into the metal, pouring on even more speed.

In what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than a minute, New York sped into view, and soon after he was soaring above the many skyscrapers of the Big Apple, closing in on the beam into the sky.

"JOHN!"

He didn't dare to look away, scared that he might lose what little control he still had on the runaway missile, but he could see a black blur slam _through_ a squad of Chitauri that had been training there weapons on him, some part of them recognizing the significance of the weapon on his back.

"Thor, clear a path!"

\+ _At once, Astartes!_ +

No sooner had Thor answered, that the sky around the beam of light was filled with the biggest lightning bolt that John had ever seen, more than several feet across at its thickest point.

\+ _Good… luck…_ _my friend._ \+ and with a sigh, the God of Thunder collapsed, the strain of channelling his powers finally catching up to him.

The sky clear of enemies, for now at least, John started angling upwards, the inversed sinkhole in the sky becoming visible. The black blur flew closer, before it started catching up to him.

He still didn't look away from the portal, but he already knew who it was, even before he heard her voice.

"JOHN! DON'T!"

"Get back Mary!"

The portal was getting closer now.

"PLEASE JOHN, DON'T DO THIS!"

He could see through the portal, he could see the sheer _vastness_ of the army, ready and eager to invade.

"Mary, take care of Aaron!"

And with that, he flew through the portal, feeling as if he flew through a waterfall as _something_ rippled over his skin, the roaring of battle suddenly cut off as he shot into the void of space. He kept flying forwards, desperately trying to avoid the mass of space whales and Chitauri soldiers that were crowding around the portal, ready to invade earth.

It wouldn't do to set it off prematurely by having a grunt take the nuke to the face well before it had reached the motherships.

So John kept flying, even as his body started getting covered in frost, and he could feel himself slowing down. Finally he shot past the vanguard of the Chitauri forces and had a clear view of the rest of the alien fleet.

He quickly let go of the missile, which shot further into the emptiness of universe on its own powers, steadily heading towards where John could see the largest of the Chitauri ships, easily bigger than an entire city.

Floating there in space, John could feel his eyes drooping closed, his tiredness only now making itself known, as the adrenaline (or whatever he had instead of that) started to wear off.

The frost that covered him started increasing in thickness, the cold of space leeching the warmth from his body and making him feel more tired than he could ever remember being.

A quick look over his shoulder showed him that the hole in space itself, the only source of light aside from a far off sun, was steadily getting smaller. John smiled softly, a feeling of pride glowing inside his chest.

' _We did it. We really did it.'_

He looked back at the army of the Chitauri, just in time to see one of their biggest ships go up in flames as the nuke smashed into it, taking the gargantuan vessel and a host of smaller ones with it.

John grinned at the sight, and kept on grinning even as the rest of the fleet fired on his floating body, great bolts of sickly purple energy screaming through the vastness of space.

He kept grinning, right until they slammed into him.

Then he screamed.

* * *

Steve was looking up at the hole in the sky, his heart tight in his chest. He could see the blooming fire of the nuclear explosion, even as it raced towards the tear in the sky, the deadly radiation shooting through space at speeds approaching that of light.

Soon, it would reach the portal, and pass through it, raining down its deadly effects on the city of New York.

He had no choice.

His voice thick with unshed tears, he called it.

"Close the portal."

He could hear his fellow Avengers yell their defiance in his ear-piece, and as heart-warming as their loyalty to one of their own was, they simply didn't have a choice.

"You asked me to call it, I am calling it! Close it, or the radiation of the nuke will _still_ poison New York and John's sacrifice would have been in vain!"

There was a brief silence as all of the Avengers struggled with the truth of that, before Natasha's voice came through his earpiece.

\+ _Copy that_ \+ the assassin said, unusually subdued.

Briefly, Steve wondered why it wasn't Tony that answered him, but then he put it out of his mind as he saw the beam suddenly cut off, and the portal rapidly shrinking.

Before it completely closed, however, Steve saw a wave of purple light streaming towards the portal, right as it was about to close.

The Chitauri, who had warily paused when he stopped fighting, cried out in panic when they saw their connection to the mothership about to be cut off, and those still in their flying sleds raced towards the hole in the sky.

They were far too slow.

With a sucking noise, the portal disappeared completely, once again showing a clear and blue sky.

All around him, the Chitauri fell to the ground like puppets with their strings cut, which in a round-about sort of way they were. But Steve didn't see any of it, his tear filled eyes trained on the sky where his friend had disappeared.

"Goodbye John." He whispered, his voice thick with sorrow.

' _Now I'm really alone.'_

He could hear Mary's scream of grief ring throughout the city, even as he himself lost all of the strength in his legs, falling to his knees, his body feeling as weak as it had been before he'd gotten the serum.

He had just condemned his friend, the only thing he still had left from his life, to death, or a fate worse than death. What if John had survived carrying the nuke? What if he had been just about to turn back? What if-

+ _Wait! I see something!_ +

Steve's head shot up, and furiously wiping his eyes, he stared at the sky again, hoping that he saw what Hawkeye's unnatural vision had managed to spot.

It took several long, agony filled moments, but finally Steve saw a small black shape fall from the sky, trailing a faint stream of smoke behind it, before there was a faint sonic boom as a blur shot towards it. Mary, because who else could it be, gently caught the falling figure, before slowly flowing back down to street-level.

Steve took off running, passing destroyed buildings, burned out cars, and scores of dead Chitauri, his heart hammering inside his chest.

' _Please Lord, please, please, let it be him, please.'_ He kept on repeating as he ran, until he finally arrived at where Mary had touched down.

And in her arms was an unconscious John.

The immortal looked terrible; he was covered in frost, and his chest was blackened and charred, his suit completely burned away from his torso.

Right as Steve reached them, there was a crash as the Hulk landed on the street, cracking it beneath its enormous bulk. The giant behemoth slowly approached the two immortals, an unusually serious expression on its usually snarling face.

Right on the heels of the Hulk's explosive entrance, came Agent Barton, covered in soot and out of arrows, his bow covered in Chitauri blood. Clearly the archer had been forced into close quarters combat, using his composite bow to great and deadly effect.

Steve slid to a stop on his knees next to Mary, who looked up at his approach with red-rimmed eyes.

"Is he…" the supersoldier couldn't bring himself to finish the question, instead grabbing John's shoulder.

Mary swallowed, before slowly shaking her golden head.

"No."

His heart fell through his chest to somewhere beneath his toes, his body feeling hollow and his mind numb. He had doomed his friend. It didn't matter whether or not John had already been dead or not before or after the portal had been closed, it had still been his call to close it. It had been _his_ call to let John carry the nuke into the portal, even though he knew that the immortal wouldn't have listened to anybody forbidding him from doing it anyway. It had been his-

"But he will be."

Even as hope and confusion raged a war inside his chest, making his heart ache in a horribly familiar way, Steve looked up at Mary ( _'why does she look so blurry?'_ ) who slowly stood up, before taking a few steps back.

She smiled at them, at a crying Steve, a sombre Barton and a serious Hulk. Her smile was soft and gentle, even as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Tell him to come and get me when he wakes up. Tomorrow is Spaghetti Thursday, and I don't think Aaron will want to miss it. We have a tradition of never missing a single Thursday you know."

And with those words, she bend her legs, before shooting off, shattering the pavement beneath her feet as she quickly disappeared from sight. But Steve knew where she was headed.

The heart on the moon still needed repairing after all.

For a few moments, everything was silent, all the noise and sounds from the world having fallen away, as Steve, Barton and the Hulk stared intently at John, desperately searching for the faintest signs of life.

Until suddenly, Johns eyes shot open and he took a deep gasp of breath. Struggling weakly, the resurrected immortal flailed his arms, before Steve managed to hold him close.

"It's okay, buddy, it's gonna be okay, I'm here, I'm right here." Steve whispered over and over, and each time he said it, the crushing guilt became just a little lighter.

Steve looked up to see Barton lean on his longbow, a tired smile on his face, while the Hulk was grinning broadly, before the behemoth tilted his head back, and gave a great roar of victory, banging his chest in triumph.

\+ _Status update Captain. Captain, do you read?_ +

"Yeah, we're okay. It worked Nick; John managed to get the nuke through the portal and returned, and Tony managed to shut down the portal. All the Chitauri are dead."

He could hear faint cheering in the background, and if it weren't for the heavy superhuman in his lap, Steve would've likely joined in. Instead, he simply settled for grinning as an idiot back at Barton and the Hulk.

Barton opened his mouth to say something, amusement dancing in his eyes, but was cut off as their radio crackled to life.

\+ _We aren't all okay._ +

It was as ice water was poured down John's back at Romanov's sombre tone. Thankfully he didn't have to ask the assassin what she meant, as Barton had sprang to his feet, one hand at his ear, the other firmly gripping his bloodied bow. After the series of shocks to his system in the last five minutes alone, Steve didn't really trust his voice.

"Nat?! Nat, how are you?!"

\+ _I'm fine._ \+ came the terse reply, before the assassin gave a heavy sigh.

\+ _Tony however…_ +

There was a brief pause, as the Russian spy audibly collected herself, before continuing, her voice soft.

+ _…Tony is in pretty bad shape._ +

* * *

 **AN 1:** Something that bothered me when I rewatched the movie, was the fact that when Tony flies through the portal, there are suddenly no Chitauri around anymore, even though they have been steadily pouring through that portal since the battle began. It should be swarming on the other side of the portal, which in my fic, it does. It gave me a nice excuse for keeping John long enough in space to tire him enough for the counterattack of the Chitauri to put him down. At least for a little bit.

 **AN 2:** In all honesty, I'm not all that pleased withthe last part of the chapter. Somehow, it keeps feeling... _flat_ to me, if you understand what I mean. Let me know what you thought about it; you're reviews are the greatest thing in the world, they literally make my day =)

 **AN 3:** Also, cliffhanger! Again! I'm sorry, please stop throwing imaginary things at me!

 **Fun Fact:** When the missile is released over Manhattan, the pilot calls detonation in two minutes and thirty seconds. The sequence between then and the detonation is actually 2:30 of film time. Concidering my dad _always_ counts along whenever a countdown is shown onscreen, just to annoy me, this was _extremely_ satisfying.


	12. Saving Stark

**AN:** At first, I was going to do the epilogue in a single chapter, but I eventually decided to cut it in two. I'll start working on the second part of the epilogue next, before taking a little brake from HI to update my other stories, no promises though on which one =)

* * *

 **Chapter 12 – Saving Stark**

Nick stepped out of the black SUV, his single eye scanning his surroundings in a flash. Even though he had come alone, he wasn't concerned for his safety. After all, this school was one of the safest places in the world.

Walking through the ornate gates, which opened and closed at his entrance without so much as a whisper of a sound, Nick started walking up the gravelly path that led to the grand manor that sprawled lazily on the small hill, looking out over the dense forests and the occasional lake.

He could see children from various ages run around on the grounds and fields, some of them watching his approach with weary eyes, he noticed. Ignoring them, he increased his pace a little, before reaching the intricately carved wooden doors, a great brass knocker glinting in the sunlight.

Just as he raised his hand, the door was whisked open, and Nick found himself face to chest with what appeared to be a man made entirely out of metal. Craning his head a little, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. looked the giant straight in his silver eyes.

"I came to see Charles." He said coolly, nothing about him showing so much as a hint of nervousness.

The silver behemoth tilted his head a little, accompanied by the sound of metal grinding on metal, before it let out a chuckle, which was more reminiscent of a stalling lawn-mower than a laugh.

"Yes. He has been expecting you." The giant rumbled with a distinct Russian accent, before he turned away from the door.

"Please, follow." He said, and while it was unmistakably an order, it was delivered very genially.

Seeing no reason not to, Nick trailed after the metal man, sharp eye taking in the tastefully decorated interior of Charles' Manor. There weren't very many people that saw these halls, and those that did usually came here because they didn't have anywhere else to go to in normal society.

' _Then again, can't I say the same about me?'_ Nick thought amused, no doubt that Charles had picked up on the thought.

He was proven correct when he heard a voice inside his head, the tone aged and full of wisdom.

' _Only if you wish it to be, Nicholas. You may have chosen the shadows, but they cannot keep you from returning to the light if you so wish.'_

Nick chuckled, and it was a sign of how much people here were used to people talking to someone who wasn't there that the metal giant didn't even appear to take notice of it.

' _Starting with the philosophical speeches already, Charles? Not even going to wait for Dr. McCoy?'_

' _Ah, of course, where are my manners? I'm sure Hank would have my hide if he knew I was engaging in enlightened discussions with you without him present.'_ The voice answered, definitely sounding amused.

The metal man came to a halt in front of a set of double doors before Nick could reply, and turned towards the Director with a friendly smile.

"The Professor will see you now."

And with a nod, the giant stomped away, every step shaking the portraits on the walls. Nick gave the doors a once over, before pushing them open and entering what appeared to be a typical Headmaster's office, covered in books, trophy's and various paraphernalia of which Nick couldn't even guess at what they signified.

And sitting behind a very large and ornate desk was an older man, as bald as Nick himself, though his expression was a lot softer. The eyes, however, didn't fit in the grand-fatherly aura the man was trying to portray.

Not that they were cold, or cruel, but they were serious, lined with a hardness that came from great loss and tough decisions. And then, behind all that, there was power. Enough power that it would make almost every single government in the world shit their pants in unholy terror.

This man could easily take over, or destroy, civilisation as they knew it, all with a single thought.

That the man had been fully justified in doing so several times during his long time on Earth, but hadn't done so had been enough for Nick to realize that this was a man that he could trust above all other, save for himself, of course.

Rolling from behind his desk in his state-of-the-art wheelchair, Charles Xavier, one of the most powerful mutants in the world, approached Nick with a smile on his face.

"Ah Nicholas, how nice to see you again!" the Professor said jovially, and Nick found himself smiling in return.

"Likewise Charles. It's been too long." And with those words, both men shook hands, before Charles gestured over to a very comfortable looking couch.

"Sit, sit! Would you like some tea? Coffee, perhaps?"

Nick sat down with a sigh (it was a _very_ comfortable couch) before shaking his head.

"I'm afraid I don't have the time for that Charles."

The Professor, who had been wheeling himself closer, came to a complete stop, before he closed his eyes and a sad smile came over his face.

"It is always business with you, is it not, Nicholas? When will the day come that you can come here, just for tea and biscuits, and not because the world is about to end?" the aged mutant said, wry amusement lining his words.

Nick smiled ruefully in return, before shaking his head.

"Not for a long while, I'm afraid. You saw what happened on the news?"

Charles gave a nod, brows drawn together in the closest thing the kind-hearted mutant would ever get to a scowl.

"There was no need to watch the television; the people of New York cried out in such horror and pain, I didn't even need Cerebro to hear it. Not to mention the physic presence of the invading aliens. Vast beyond anything I have ever encountered before, they almost felt like a-"

"- a Hivemind?" Nick cut in, making Charles look up sharply.

"That? That was only the beginning. The vanguard to a force large enough to wipe humanity, in all its forms, from the face of the Earth." The Director continued, his voice heated and his face serious.

Charles was silent for a few moments, regarding Nick with a calculating gaze, before he leaned forwards in his chair, hands folded underneath his chin.

"Tell me everything."

And Nick did.

* * *

Charles leaned back in his chair, his head spinning as he tried to come to grips with all that his old friend had told him. The sun had long since set, and the Director had only now finished, wetting his parched throat with what had to be his sixth cup of coffee.

It had been a _very_ long tale; starting from the dawn of humanity, to WW II, to present day, and if what Nick said was true, then the end still wasn't in sight.

Expelling a breath, Charles asked the first question that came to mind.

"The Avengers. How are they doing?"

While he could easily have gotten the idea's straight from the man's memories, despite how well defended and shielded his mind was, Charles preferred not to. Nicholas knew that he could rifle through his mind at will, and it had been an enormous sign of trust on the Director's part that he still came here without any protection.

Charles had long since decided that he would never break that trust if he could help it.

Nick wiped a hand over his tired face, leaning back into his couch a little more, his head tilted back to the ceiling.

"Well, it's been only a couple of days, so most are either still stuck in fight-mode, or ready to fall asleep from exhaustion. I know that Captain Rogers has begun helping with relief efforts in the city since yesterday though. That man can't sit still to save his life.

Agent Barton and Agent Romanov are shadowing Coulson every single moment of the day, never allowing him to leave their sight. Coulson himself is going through physiotherapy right now, but he hates it with a passion, even if he doesn't say anything.

It also means that Barton and Romanov are keeping an eye on Loki. He and Coulson often meet, and they talk a lot about what Loki's next steps are. He still needs to face justice here and on Asgard, but they are searching for ways that would keep him out of a cell and doing something useful at least.

Thor is either checking up on Loki or Dr. Selvig, whenever he isn't recuperating from overloading his powers. Selvig, while brilliant, appears to have… _cracked_ under the knowledge of science and magic millennia ahead of our time. As it is, Thor wants to take Selvig back with him to Asgard, see if they can help him adjust to the information, or simply erase it completely.

He has extended that offer to the rest of the Avengers as well, me included, and I think it best if we accept. We can argue in Loki's favour, and it'll allow us to start building alliances. We're gonna need it against Thanos when he comes.

Dr. Banner is a little overwhelmed by it all, I think. His actions at New York have given me enough wiggle room to start putting pressure on Ross, but fact of the matter remains that the experiment was not government sanctioned; I might save him from Ross, just to have him court-marshalled instead. But at least public opinion of the Hulk has increased, though dealing with the property damage is going to be a nightmare.

John and Mary are doing as well as can be. Mary leaving for the moon created enough distance for John to heal, and he managed to get her to come back to Earth without too much trouble. But I can tell he isn't entirely comfortable; getting hit by a full barrage from the fleet has managed to scar him Charles. We know now how he could've gotten those other scars, but those were fairly small, and he'd gotten them when he had been fully human.

But this new scar covers almost his entire chest, and he'd gotten it after no more than an hour in Mary's company. He's worried that either the spell is wearing off, and he and Mary are getting mortal whether or not they are close to each other, or, and this is the more worrying option, that he isn't as indestructible as we all thought.

He refuses to go to therapy, so I've asked Ray Embrey to talk to him about it."

Nick paused from his long speech to drain his cup of coffee, and immediately began refilling it. Charles, however, looked at him with a stern expression, his fingers laced in his lap.

"You're forgetting one, Nick."

Nick paused, his seventh cup already halfway to his lips, before he gave a sigh and put it down on the coffee table.

"Tony Stark… you know why he has the Arc Reactor in his chest, right?"

Seeing him nod, Nick continued.

"Well, a little over a year ago, Tony, _somehow_ , managed to synthesize the Tesseract. Don't ask me how, I doubt anyone outside of Dr. Banner, Dr. Selvig or Dr. Pym would understand anything out of that man's mouth. The long and short of it however, is that it allowed the Arc Reactor to pass through the shield keeping the Tesseract safe."

With a feeling of dread, Charles asked his next question, though he started to suspect he already knew the answer.

"How did he get the Reactor through the shield though? Isn't it inside of his chest?"

Nick shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, before his posture slumped a little.

"He ripped it out."

Charles couldn't contain his gasp as he sat a little straighter in his seat.

"Oh god! Is he-"

"- Alive. Barely. And nobody knows for how long. We keep checking on him, but each time the news gets a little worse. The shards are now _inside_ his hart. Not inside the chambers, thankfully, but... essentially, Tony's own heartbeat is killing him. We've drugged him with as much Diazepam as possible without putting him in a coma, slowing his heartbeat enough to minimize the damage until we find a solution, but…

… Tony Stark is dying, Charles."

Charles sagged a little in his chair. While he hadn't known Tony personally, being several decades his senior, he had known the inventors parents, and had been friends with Howard, though not very close.

For the young, bright-eyed boy he still remember from those boring dinner-party's and expositions he had been forced to attended in his youth, for such a promising human to die in such a way…

Charles turned to Nick, who was watching him intently.

"And you came to me for help."

"No."

At this, Charles raised an eyebrow in surprise, prompting his old friend to continue.

"I don't need _your_ help. I need the help from someone you know."

Charles turned as white as a sheet as everything fell into place.

"Erik." He breathed.

* * *

It was a tense group that descended the crowded elevator. They travelled in silence, all of them weary, though in most cases it was because they were unarmed.

Though that only applied to some of them, Charles mused as he watched both S.H.I.E.L.D. agents fiddle nervously at their empty utility belts, while Thor kept grabbing at a weight that wasn't there anymore.

The Captain appeared unusually unbothered by leaving his famous shield behind, but Charles could pick up the agitation from the man's mind. He didn't like the fact that he had to be separated from it but understood why and accepted it.

Others were completely unbothered, such a Dr. Banner, who was continuously checking up on the unconscious Tony Stark, or Hancock who was leaning against the elevator wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, though Charles caught him occasionally rubbing it when he thought no one was looking.

Hancock's ex-wife, Mary, had not joined them, she and John fearing that getting close to one another so soon might weaken them once more. The last Charles heard of her, she was safely back in L.A., living the fulfilling life of a wife and mother, who occasionally stopped disasters in the city.

Finally, they came to a halt, and with a near-silent hiss, the doors opened, allowing the unusual group of the world's most dangerous people to troop out. He could see that most were taken aback by the stark white plastic panelling, but he forged on ahead.

They didn't have the luxury of time.

As he rolled on ahead, Charles glanced over his shoulder at the people behind him.

"Once we meet with my old friend, please allow me to do the talking. No matter how impatient you are, or how much he seems to stall for time, do not speak to him. His powers are so formidable, people tend to forget that his voice is a weapon of its own as well."

The Avengers gave him their grumbled assent, though in some cases it was more grudgingly given than others.

He quickly continued, wheeling himself forwards with all due haste.

The rest of the group followed behind him, unconsciously setting themselves up around the gurney that carried Mr. Stark, who was looking worse every second. His skin was grey, and blood pooled in the corners of his mouth.

If this didn't work, then all hope was lost, and Iron Man would be no more.

Charles was brought out of his musing as he came upon what appeared to be a vault door, again made completely out of plastic. This too slid open with a soft hiss, allowing the Avengers their first look at one of the most infamous mutants in human history.

Sitting on a plastic chair, Erik Lensherr had a small smile on his age-lined face as he looked at the collection of superheroes in front of his cell.

Though to the world, he was better known as Magneto, the Master of Magnetism.

"Well, what is this then, Charles? An execution?" the aged mutant spoke up, his voice soft and cultured, clearly putting several of the Avengers off guard.

From all the stories they heard about the man, they were probably expecting some half-mad, raving lunatic, instead of the calm and collected grand-fatherly figure in front of them.

Charles wheeled himself inside the cell, the rest of the Avengers following with only the barest of hesitations.

"No, Erik. We are not here to _take_ a life, but to _save_ one."

The white-haired figure rolled his eyes, his voice patronizing as he answered his old friend.

"Come now, Charles. Must you start again with your speeches of redemption?" he asked mockingly.

"No, I'm afraid not, Erik. After all, it's not yet a Tuesday." Charles answered calmly, a thin smile on his face.

Magneto simply gave a nonchalant shrug.

"One tends to lose track of time in here, as you can imagine." His voice still as soft and calm as before, but somehow hiding a hint of steel that was noticed by all the Avengers, as Charles could feel them tensing up.

"Erik, we are here to save this man's life."

And with that he mentioned that the Avengers bring their comrade forwards, which they did with obvious apprehension. As Erik got his first look at the person lying on the gurney, Charles could see his eyes widen in surprise.

"Howard's boy?"

"Yes, there are-"

"-Several slivers of metal, worming themselves into his heart. A magnetic field is keeping them from burying deeper."

Erik turned to his old friend with a dry expression on his face.

"Do give me _some_ credit at least, Charles. I'm not called the Master of Magnetism for nothing, after all."

Ignoring the jibe, Charles sat forwards in his wheelchair.

"Can you save him?"

Erik frowned at him, before crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I can remove the slivers easily enough yes. But whether that will save him or not…"

"What do you mean, Erik?"

"Not only have the pieces already wreaked havoc on the man's heart, when I extract the slivers, _how_ exactly do you propose that I remove them from his body?"

"You wouldn't have to."

Erik's head shot up at the voice of Dr. Banner, who had intervened in the conversation between the two aged mutants.

"If you drag the slivers back to where they were before, then the Arc Reactor will keep them from slipping inside his heart again."

Erik sniffed, tilting his chin upwards in defiance.

"A half-measure at best, a postponement of the inevitable at worst."

Charles could see Dr. Banner, as well as several of the other Avengers open their mouths and prepare to lay into his old friend, something that would benefit no one, least of all Tony Stark.

He was prepared to use his powers to force everybody to calm down, when a weak voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

"P-pull them… out… s-same way… they w-went in…"

Dr. Banner was at his fellow scientist's side in a flash, worriedly checking on the young Stark's vitals even as he admonished him.

"Quiet Tony, don't talk too much. In fact, with all the drugs running through your system, I'm surprised that you can even talk at all. You should be nearly comatose."

Even as weak looking as he was, Tony still managed a roguish grin.

"B-been there… done t-that…"

"You do realize, that _if_ I do remove the slivers as you say, it will be a horrifyingly painful experience, easily hundreds of times worse than when you got those shards in the first place?" Erik spoke up, eyes assessing the nearly dead man in front of him.

Tony struggled to move his head so he could look Erik in the eye, but when he did, both he and Charles were taken aback by the sheer determination on such a gaunt face.

"W-was… u-unconscious… at t-the t-time… hundred t-time zero… s-still zero…" he said, sweat pouring down his greying skin, even as blood pooled in the corner of his mouth.

"And why should I save you in the first place? I see no benefit in it for me." Erik said coolly, leaning back in his chair as his cold eyes roamed across the crowd in the room.

"Why you arrogant little-"

"John, no!" Charles yelled, wheeling himself in the path of the immortal.

While he greatly respected the superhuman, having hoped for a long time that with Hancock, the bridge between mutant and human might be easier to cross, he also held a respectful amount of fear for the man.

He was old enough to remember seeing the Breaking of Berlin, after all, even if he had been a young boy at the time.

Still, it was without a moment's hesitation that he put himself between the irate Eternal and his old friend. While he and Erik had drifted apart over the years, and he certainly didn't approve of the man's methods, he could never see Erik as a true enemy, since in the end they both wanted the same thing.

There was also the fact that they _needed_ Magneto if they were going to save Stark, something that Hancock probably realized as well, since he didn't flatten Charles in his rush to the Magnetic villain.

Instead he glowered and backed off, though both he and the rest of the Avengers were still tense.

Before Charles could try and salvage the situation, a familiar voice spoke up from behind the crowded superheroes.

"Freedom."

As one, the Avengers parted to show Nicholas, calmly entering the cell with them and regarding Erik with a single cool eye. The aged mutant in response lifted a snow-white eyebrow.

"And who might you be?" he drawled, his cultured voice dripping with derision.

Nick didn't appear to be bothered about it, and from his mind Charles only picked up calm and calculated thoughts.

"Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and, should you decide to save Stark, the one to get you out of here."

"You offer me my freedom? Somehow I doubt you'll simply release me back into society." The villain drawled, though his cultured voice held a dangerous undertone.

Nick shrugged, approaching the table Erik was sitting behind and taking a seat himself.

"I'm not. I'm just offering to get you out of here."

"And where shall you put me then, if not in another cell?" Erik asked calmly, though his hands were clenched into fists.

"I'd give you your own island. Your own land, where you can apply your own laws. You'd be recognized as a sovereign state, and no one would be able to challenge your claim. You could build a safe-haven for all mutants. That's your dream, isn't it?"

Erik straightened himself in his chair, slamming a palm on the clear plastic table in front of him, making several Avengers jump and grab for weapons that weren't there.

"My dream is _not_ for mutantkind to be put away in some little corner of the world, and let the humans throw away the key! I will not allow mutantkind, _my_ kind, to be corralled like cattle for slaughter!" Erik whispered venomously, and for the first time in years, Charles saw Magneto again, the terrorist hiding beneath his friend's skin.

"Because you're doing _such_ a good job, helping mutants from your little cell here." Nick shot back, eyes narrowed as he stared the villain down.

"You help Stark, you get a major publicity boost _and_ a safe-haven for mutants, recognized by all the nations of the UN. From there, you can _really_ work at integrating mutants and mankind, with Stark on your side, and with him, everybody supporting Stark as well.

This can be the start of a new age for mutants, if you're willing to give up your pride and for _once_ in your life do the _smart_ thing, the _right_ thing.

Help Tony Stark. And in return, mutants will be helped as well."

Everybody held their breath after the Director's speech, all of them looking at Erik in anticipation, wondering whether the extremist would take the offer.

Erik himself was clearly struggling, and Charles nearly got a head-ache from the rush of thoughts tumbling inside his friend's mind.

Finally, after several agonizingly long moments, Erik gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

"Very well. We have a deal."

Charles wanted to grin and cheer, and if he wasn't confined to a wheelchair he'd probably done a little jig right there on the spot, with the Avengers not far behind him, but Erik's voice cut through his happiness like a razor-sharp whip.

"This isn't over. I _will_ want to see everything written up, in contract, with signatures and witness statements to make it absolutely iron-clad. I will _not_ be cheated out of a better future for my kind, Director, or I will show you the true power of Magnetism, by ripping this planet in half!"

Charles could see his friend tense, but a quick surface-scan showed that Nick remained completely calm and collected, even as he answered Magneto in a cold voice.

"Duly noted, and likewise. You play anything on Stark… this cell will be at the very bottom of your _very_ long list of problems."

Threats delivered and accepted, the two men rose as one, Charles out of reflex almost following him, before good-naturedly berating himself inside his mind, before Erik stalked over to where Tony was lying with a few great strides, remarkably vibrant for a man his age.

Charles had long suspected that, despite the fact that his friend seemed to age normally, his powers still granted him longevity in some way or another, though how Magnetism and a person's lifespan were connected he had no clue.

He was shaken from his musings as he saw Erik place a wrinkled hand right above Tony's chest, who seemed to have slipped into blissful unconsciousness again, the mutants age-lined face scrunched up in concentration.

"This will be extremely delicate; a single error of the smallest margin could be instantly fatal to your friend. I require absolute silence; do not speak to me, nor try to get my attention, for it will surely kill him. I need someone to hold him very still. If he shifts while I remove the shards he may gravely injure himself."

Responding to the aged mutant commanding tone, Thor and John leapt forwards, hands strong enough to topple buildings holding their friend with surprising gentleness.

"There will be a lot of blood during the removal, something that I don't think Mr. Stark can afford to lose at this moment. Which one amongst you is capable of healing him, or tending to his wounds at least?"

Without a word, Loki, still looking absolutely exhausted, stepped forwards, a grim expression on his face, as he placed his hands next to Erik's, and they game alive with a golden-green glow. Dr. Banner stepped up as well, needle and gauze in hand as he stared intently at where the shards would emerge.

"Are you all ready?"

Seeing the various nods, Erik nodded, his voice serious and his face set in a frown.

"Then I ask for absolute silence…

… starting now."

* * *

 **AN:** So, the X-Men have arrived on the scene? But which ones? The old or new timeline? Which villains have they faced, what events of human history have they altered. To be honest, neither. I've simply taken the characters from the first three X-Men movies, and sort of dumped them in the mcu. However, concidereing the fact that John has been flying around for 80 years, and Hydra busted out laser weaponry in the 1940's, the world is a whole lot more accepting of "unnaturalness". As for the effects from the reboot X-men story line, I might show a few of those as we get into the other movies, but no promises. I _will_ confirm that this isn't a one off thing; mutantkind is here to stay =)

 **Fun Fact:** The bridge where Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, Hawkeye, Black Widow and Hulk fight against Chitauri's army is the same where J jumps to fall into a bus full of tourists while hunting an alien in Men in Black. How's that for actor allusion, huh? ;p


	13. Arrival at Asgard

**AN:** So, now HI numbers 200 pages in word and has over 10,000 views on . Guys, that's... that's so AWESOME! :D Thanks to you all for sticking by me for so long :) Also, apologies for the later update, but this chapter just. wouldn't. end. In fact, it's still not finished; I had hoped for 1 or 2 epilogues, and then straight into the next marvel movie. Instead, it looks as if there'll be a couple of transitional chapters before we can move on from the Avengers movie. It does mean that this is the longest chapter I have ever written. I think. Have fun! :)

* * *

 **Chapter 13 – Arrival at Asgard**

Thor looked at his brother with a critical eye, millennia of closeness between them allowing him to easily spot his brother's apprehension as he stared at the strange device that contained the Tesseract.

Surrounding him and his brother were the other Avengers, as well as Agent Coulson (since neither Black Widow or Hawkeye would allow the crippled man out of their sight, and Loki himself seemed very disinclined to be parted from the injured spy).

Director Fury was also there, his actions in trying to prevent an explosive from reaching New York doing a lot to alleviate some of the tension and suspicion that the discovery of Phase II had created. It was neither forgotten, nor really forgiven, but they had bigger problems to worry about, and the Director's fears had a very real chance of being realized.

Marianna had decided not to come, Astartes' two near-deaths in only four years frightening her enough that she chose not to join them, even if it meant that she wouldn't be getting the answers she had longed for since the Celestials had wiped her memory.

Astartes seemed disappointed by this, but appeared to understand his counterparts' fears and reasoning; even though he tried not to show it, it was clear to his fellow Avengers that he was very much shaken up by whatever happened after he had gone through the portal. Of all the people there, he looked the most apprehensive at the Tesseract, no doubt remembering what happened the last time he had travelled using something of the Infinity Stones' creation.

Sitting in a wheelchair, skin still an unhealthy pale grey, sat Tony, his expression tired, though his eyes shone with curiosity as he examined the Cosmic Cube from where he sat in his wheelchair. It had been a gift from Charles Xavier, the telepath who had led them to the criminal that had saved Tony's life.

It had been a harrowing experience, seeing Magneto pry the slivers of metal from Iron Man's chest. The villain had been forced to work slow, lest he damage Tony's organs even further, allowing Loki to try and heal the wounds as best he could. Thor doubted he would ever forget the sight of the shards of metal slowly bursting from his friend's chest in a gruesome show of blood and gore, no matter how many millennia more he may live.

Tony, however, had recovered remarkably fast, if not in body, then at least in mind. He was forced to remain in the wheelchair until he recovered his strength, and had in the ensuing boredom decided to _experiment_ on it, completely disregarding the fact that it had been a personal gift from the kind professor Xavier.

It now had several arc reactor hidden inside of it, allowing for flight, repulsors and arc-reactor-powered boosters. Naturally, it had been painted over in garish Iron Man colours, giving the whole thing the appearance of a mad inventor's weirdest dream.

Then again, knowing Tony, that just might be the case.

The professor didn't seem to mind too much, however, even showing interest in the flight-capabilities of the chair. When asked about it, the mutant had blushed, and ruefully admitted that in the past his immobility had often been something his enemies had gleefully exploited. But if he were to possess an Iron Man chair of his own, then the villains were in for a nasty, not to mention very painful, surprise.

Charles Xavier had been invited by the Avengers in general, and Tony in particular, to join them on their journey, as thanks for saving the life of one of their teammates. The professor, ever the academic, had gladly accepted.

Standing behind Tony, one perfectly manicured hand resting on his shoulder, stood the Lady Potts. As one of the richest and most successful women on Midgard, and one of the very few people that Tony trusted without reservation, Thor had quickly decided that the woman deserved a certain amount of respect, and so he hadn't voiced any protest when the redhead simply told him that she was coming as well, in a tone that brooked no argument.

It had brought a quick smile to Loki's face, though it was immediately wiped off when his brother glanced back at the Tesseract in his hands.

"My friends, please gather around. You must be in contact with either me or my brother to journey alongside us." Thor's voice boomed, and the Avengers and co quickly stepped closer to the two Norse gods, laying a hand on their shoulders or arms.

Thor glanced to his left, where he had his free hand keeping a solid grip on Erik's shoulder. The scientist had been drifting in and out of lucidity, sometimes sprouting off a combination of nonsense and advanced science that made even Tony's head spin. On the moments that he was lucid, however, the scientist became morose and guilt-ridden over his part in the Chitauri invasion, no matter how often Thor tried to convince him of his innocence.

Eventually the God of Thunder had had his fill with his friend's moping, and dragged Erik over to the most seedy bar he could find in the City of New York. A glorious brawl later, and the scientist looked a lot more lively and accepting of his part in the alien invasion, unwilling as it might have been.

He still looked at Loki with nothing but malice and hatred in his eyes, however.

Still, even though he was doing better, Thor still really wished for the healers of Asgard to examine his friend, who right now was looking around him with a vacant gaze and a distracted smile on his face.

Seeing that all of the Avengers and their companions were in contact with him or his brother, Thor gave a nod, and twisted the handle on the device that contained the Tesseract. The device had been sent to Earth a few days ago by his father's powers, which had been depleted from sending Thor to Midgard when Loki fell under Heimdall's gaze once more.

However, sending this device hadn't required as much power as sending a god had, which meant that after a little over a week, Thor could return to his home, instead of waiting a year or so for his father's powers to recharge enough.

As he twisted the handle a quarter clockwise, a dull _'thunk'_ could be heard, before a bright blue light enveloped them. What followed was an experience that made Thor's head spin, even though he felt as if he hadn't moved even an inch.

While travelling through the Bifrost had been somewhat reminiscent of riding a really, _really_ fast horse, if that horse were made of multi-coloured light and shaking like mad that is, travelling with the Tesseract was… _different_.

Thor had the distinct feeling that for an infinitely short moment, the laws of this universe didn't entirely apply anymore. There was no sense of movement, but simultaneously there was a feeling of truly mind-boggling speed. The bright blue of the Tesseract was all-encompassing, yet they were still enveloped by the absolute darkness of space.

After what could have easily been longer than eternity or shorter than an instant, they arrived on the broken Bifrost, nothing indicating that they had just made a journey across the vast universe, not even so much as a ruffle in their clothing.

He could see that his friends were all extremely disoriented, despite, or maybe because of, the lack of movement they had all experienced.

A quick glance at his brother showed that Loki was panting in short, irregular breaths, his eyes wide and haunted.

It had been the reason that Thor had tried to find another way of travelling to Asgard before resorting to the Tesseract; Loki had been using a roughly similar way of travel when Thanos sent him to conquer Earth, and clearly the experience had left a bad taste in the god's memories.

Releasing Erik, who was busy babbling in scientific jargon about just what had happened to them to nobody in particular, Thor approached his brother, laying a large hand on his narrow shoulder.

He winced when he saw Loki flinch at the sudden contact, wide eyes flitting over to his face, before after a second or so, recognition and relief flooded the younger brother in equal measure.

"Brother?"

There was no point in asking Loki how he felt; terror was clearly written on his face. Still, Thor felt that he should try and be in contact with his brother as much as possible, to check whether or not he could deal with what he was feeling.

The fear that this might very well be the last time that he and Loki could talk without a prison separating the two of them was resolutely shoved to the back of his mind.

Loki gave a shaky nod, before straightening himself.

"I'm fine, brother."

They both knew that it was a lie. Both also knew that addressing this fact really wouldn't help matters any, so Thor simply nodded, before moving to the head of the group.

While he wasn't the leader of the Avengers, despite his qualifications, he still was the Crown Prince of Asgard, and as such it was his duty to lead his guests around the Realm.

Standing on the Bifrost, sword in hand with the gleaming tip resting on the solid rainbow-coloured crystal underneath his golden-booted feet, stood the towering figure of Heimdall, his omniscient eyes taking in all of the newcomer's in impossible detail, even though they remained focused on Thor himself.

"Hail, Heimdall! I have returned from my mission from Midgard successful!"

At his words, the Avengers gathered themselves, before quickly setting themselves up behind him. Thor didn't have to look back to know that the most vulnerable members of their group (the Son of Coul, Professor Xavier, Miss Potts, Dr. Selvig and Tony Stark, no matter how much he protested that fact) were in the middle and at the back of their group, with their combatants at the front, which included a nervous looking Dr. Banner.

Heimdall didn't move a muscle at the Avengers' movements, though Thor could see amusement dancing in the Watcher's multi-coloured eyes.

"I know." The dark-skinned Asgardian rumbled, his deep voice filled with not arrogance, but something more benign.

Thor simply chuckled; while it was a formality to introduce yourself once you stepped foot upon the Bifrost, it was largely unnecessary. Heimdall saw and knew all, there was very little chance that he didn't know you were coming before you yourself did.

"And yet, I find myself surprised. You come with a large company, and your prisoner is unrestrained." The god continued, though this time his rumbling voice was completely flat, even as his golden eyes moved from Thor to Loki, who shuffled uncomfortably under the Watcher's heavy gaze.

The Avengers tensed at the unspoken accusation, but Thor quickly waved them back. Heimdall was amongst the most powerful Asgardians not of the Royal family and in a way more feared than Odin himself.

To their enemies, Odin was a vague and far-off threat; powerful, yes, but not a problem until one was already within the borders of Asgard itself. Heimdall, on the other hand, would hear and see everything you did, no matter where you tried to hide or how secretive you were trying to be.

Amongst all of the Asgardians, even with their magic and their vast strength, it was Heimdall that was seen as the bogeyman amongst the scum of the universe.

It was why Thor rather wished there wasn't an altercation between the Watcher and his Midgardian friends. Any altercations at all during their stay here were something that Thor desperately wished to avoid if at all possible.

He'd rather not risk his father's temper or ruin any goodwill and sympathy that Midgard possessed amongst the other realms.

"You have seen the explanation for Loki's crimes, have you not?" Thor asked of Heimdall, and even though his eyes remained on the nervous Loki, the dark-skinned Asgardian still answered the god of Thunder as if he was staring at him directly.

"Aye. And I have also seen the crimes themselves as well. In great detail."

"He aided us against the Chitauri!"

"I know. It is the reason why only I await you upon the Bifrost, instead of an army of Asgard's finest warriors."

Finally, Heimdall turned his gaze away from Loki, who couldn't quite conceal his sigh of relief, and instead fixed it once more on Thor, who felt as if an enormous weight suddenly rested on his shoulders.

"While his crimes upon Midgard may not have been committed by his own will, we still remember his offences committed in Asgard. None of which can be considered light, and for those, as damaged as it might've been, his mind was still his own."

Thor opened his mouth, an indignant rebuke ready to leap from his throat, but Heimdall stopped him by raising a single hand.

"However, what do to with him is not up to me. I do not govern Asgard; I simply watch over her. Go. Your father is waiting, and his patience is wearing thin."

Thor accepted the dismissal for what it was, and quickly stalked down the Bifrost, giving a quick nod in thanks to the Watcher; it was probably only Heimdall's word that had kept Asgard's army from coming down upon them, giving them the chance to present themselves before Odin without being covered in damning shackles.

Before they could all pas the golden-clad warrior, Heimdall's hand shot out, resting on Astartes' shoulder. The Guardian simply looked from the hand to Heimdall and back to the hand again, before raising an eyebrow in Thor's direction, who was frantically shaking his head.

Astartes was powerful, yes, but he'd rather not see his childhood hero pummel one of Asgard's most respected citizens into the ground.

Before the situation could escalate however, Heimdall spoke up, his voice unusually soft.

"Once your business within the Palace is concluded, Astartes, might you be willing to speak with me?"

Astartes frowned in confusion, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Why'd _you_ want to talk to _me_?"

A wistful smile played over Heimdall's usually impassive face, before he removed his hand from Astartes' shoulder and looked back into the swirling emptiness of Ginnungagap, the void between the Realms of the Yggdrasil.

"Is it that unusual for a son to wish to speak with his father?"

Astartes mouth fell open, his eyes widening behind his sunglasses. The rest of the Avengers weren't really all that better off, with even the Black Widow looking completely shocked. Thor picked up a faint "oh, my" from Loki and couldn't help but agree.

Heimdall chuckled, a deep, reverberating sound, before he turned away from them.

"Go. We will speak later, you have other matters to attend to."

Nodding numbly, Astartes started moving forwards, and after a short delay, the shocked Avengers followed him. Everybody pretended not to notice the way Astartes kept looking back over his shoulder.

Horses awaited them, with a comfortable chariot for Tony and Xavier, allowing them to travel to the palace of Asgard relatively quickly. The ride itself was rather uneventful and completed in silence; it was still very early, and the streets were fairly empty. Those few people that were already out and about didn't really pay attention to the large group or riders coming from the Bifrost, used to such a sight after a year of reparations to the rainbow bridge.

After the bomb-shell that Heimdall had dropped on them, none of the Avengers really felt like talking either.

In short order the had arrived at the towering palace of Asgard, home to the Royal Family and Asgard's greatest treasures and most dangerous weapons. It was a marvel of architecture, grand and glimmering, dominating the vast landscape of the entire city, it was truly-

"Why does it look like an overgrown pipe-organ?"

Thor sighed, before turning to face Tony, ignoring Loki smirk at the inventor's remark.

"It's not a pipe-organ."

"Well, how would you know? Have you ever seen one before?"

"I have, as a matter of fact. They are still a favoured instrument in Asgard, though their use is not widespread."

"Well, then you'd know that it looks like really big pipe-organ."

Thor opened his mouth, but closed it again with a sigh. Arguing with Tony was an exercise in futility at the best of times. Now, however, whenever he found himself on the losing side of the argument (something that usually only happened when he was talking with either Loki, Dr. Banner, or Professor Xavier, and even then not often) he would simply claim a sore throat and stop the argument right then and there.

The fact that his voice was still very raspy and that he was prone to coughing fits certainly helped in that regard; Magneto's warning had rung true, and Tony, despite standing on death's door and completely filled to the brim with sedatives, had screamed so hard and long that he couldn't talk for two days straight.

Shaking his head, as much to clear his head from his dark thoughts as well as a rebuke to a grinning Tony, Thor simply turned away, his red cloak billowing behind him.

"Come. My father is waiting. And Tony? Please don't tell my father, the ruler of Asgard and all its subjects, and one of the most powerful beings in the universe, that his home looks like an overgrown musical instrument?"

"No promises."

"Not entirely sure why you expected anything else brother."

"Don't you dare start as well."

* * *

John didn't really see any of the beauty of Asgard or its Palace as they ascended the multitude of stairs that led to a giant set of ornately carved golden doors. His mind was swirling with yet another shock to his system.

First Thor tells him is part of a million year old species, immortal and god-like compared to their fellow humans, telling him more about himself and his past in half and hour than he had managed to uncover in over 70 years on Earth.

And then, within ten minutes of setting foot on Asgard, the very first guy they meet just casually reveals himself as his son.

He was starting to suspect that Asgardians were bad for his health. And they had yet to meet with the King of all of them.

Oh joy.

' _I have a son?'_

The thought kept swirling inside his head, a confusion mix of emotions accompanying the life-changing realisation.

' _I have a_ son _?'_

Children were something that for John had quickly become something abstract, something that he would never be able to have. Just one more thing that set him apart from the humans around him.

' _I_ have _a son?'_

Not only was being intimate with a woman extremely dangerous, it was generally assumed that whatever woman he laid with, would be unable to bear the child, even if it was possible for her to become pregnant in the first place, which wasn't that much of a certainty, given that they weren't even certain whether or not he was even really human.

' _I have_ a _son?'_

So he had quickly learned to put the thought of having children out of his mind, and apart from the occasional pang of jealousy during the first couple decennia of his life, he hadn't really thought about it anymore.

'I _have a son?'_

Briefly, when he and Mary had found each other again, the thought had crossed his mind, but Mary was now happily married to Ray, and was content with being Aaron's mother. Of course, eventually both Ray and Aaron would grow old and die, as had most of John's friends over time, but Mary had never mentioned a son before, despite remembering their time together for the last 3,000 years.

' _I have a son?'_

Then again, Thor had said that before the Celestials had wiped his and Mary's memories, he and Mary had already been hundreds of thousands of years old; they could have had a child in that time, and neither of them would have remembered it. If the child hadn't wanted to become a Guardian like they had, then by the decree of the Celestials, he would've been forbidden from even so much as contacting them

He was shaken from his thoughts, as they reached the top of the marble white stairs, the gigantic doors, even larger up close, swung open majestically, accompanied by the scraping of metal on stone.

As they entered through the golden doors, they found themselves in a large hall, massive pillars supporting a silver roof impossibly high above them. Everything glimmered in a metallic colour, and was covered in Nordic runes and knots.

Sitting at the end of the impressive hallway, sat a large figure on an enormous throne, its golden gleam somehow outshining the rest of the opulent palace, without looking tacky. Instead, it almost hummed with a sense of power and majesty, though it was dwarfed by the aura coming from the person sitting on the throne itself.

Clad in regal looking armour, reminding John somewhat of the armour that Thor wore, with snow-white hair and beard, one golden eyepatch covering an eye, Odin All-Father, King of Asgard, and one of the most powerful beings in the universe, stared at them as they approached.

His face was a neutral mask, though his single eye was hard and cold, a complete contrast to the woman standing next to him. Tall and regal, she had a very motherly appearance, and as her eyes landed on the approaching Thor and Loki, a watery smile appeared on her face.

Frigga, mother to Thor and Loki, and a very powerful magic-user in her own right, she was one of the most powerful women in existence; she was the only person that Odin listened to, and all that Loki knew of magic, she had thought him.

Even though she was the voice of compassion to her husband's fair but stern rule, she was still a Queen of the most advanced of the Nine Realms with millennia of experience under her belt, both in war and peace.

Underestimating her was a mistake most of her enemies only made once.

A few feet in front of the dais on which Odin's majestic throne stood, Thor sank to a knee, those of their group who were capable of doing so immediately following. For all of their pride, social awkwardness, or personal problems with authority, nobody even so much as considered disrespecting Odin in his own Hall, Válaskjálf, from where legend told he could see all of the Realms at once.

There was living dangerously, and being suicidal.

Charles Xavier, the kind-hearted mutant leader, and Tony Stark, still recovering from the torturous operation that saved his life, of course remained seated, though Charles politely bowed his head, something that Tony awkwardly tried to copy.

Phil, still walking with a stick, and clearly tired from crossing the impressive length of Válaskjálf, simply bowed and gave an apologetic smile, even as he wiped the thin sheen of sweat from his face.

While Agent Romanov had taken a knee like Thor had, Miss Pepper had instead made a curtsey, before taking her place at Tony's shoulder, though like Charles, she kept her head bowed in a show of respect.

Dr. Selvig, however, had been looking around the Hall in wonder, apparently not even noticing the King and Queen on the dais, instead wandering off and examining a pillar from up close, all the while mumbling to himself.

Clearly Odin was aware of Selvig's condition, because instead of looking affronted, the King of Asgard simply gazed at the confused scientist for a moment, before giving his wife a nod. Frigga immediately strode towards Erik, and with a gentle hand and soft words directed him to where a couple of other Asgardians already stood waiting, their robes easily identifying them as medical personnel.

From the corner of his eye, John saw a look of shame and regret cross Loki's face, before he quickly schooled it into a mask of neutrality.

"Rise."

Odin's voice was surprising; John had half expected for the King's voice to boom throughout the Hall with every word, or be soft and raspy with age, if the snow-white hair was any indication.

Instead, it was an odd mix of the two. While soft, it was still filled with power, and John had no doubt that if Odin were ever to shout it would shake the dust lose form the silver ceiling.

As one, the Avengers rose, before Thor took a step forward. Tough the Thunder god was clearly nervous, his voice was strong and steady.

"Father, I have returned from Midgard, having completed my mission."

"So I see." Odin replied, both his voice and his face completely neutral, giving the Avengers no idea what the King was thinking.

Forging on ahead, Thor continued.

"May I introduce my companions, Father?"

At Odin's nod, Thor stepped back, and one by one stepped up to every Avenger and laid a hand on their shoulder as he introduced them to the King of Asgard.

"This is Steven Rogers, though most on Midgard know him as Captain America. About 70 years ago, he was transformed from a small and weak mortal into the absolute peak of their physical abilities. He is a hero from one of their most terrible wars, and sacrificed himself to save the entirety of Midgard. Preserved in ice for decades, he has only recently awoken, and fights now as one of the Avengers, having proven himself a capable leader, and a man I would gladly follow into battle."

Clearly the thought that _he_ would follow someone else's lead, and a mortal at that, was a shock for the assembled Asgardians, Odin raising a single eyebrow in surprise, before looking Steven over with a calculating look.

"For you to possess the fortitude to lead my son into battle, is a great feat indeed." Odin said dryly, and an odd silence fell amongst the hall, though Frigga managed to hide a grin behind her hand.

' _Did he just… Did_ Odin _just make a joke?'_ John though incredulously, a though mirrored not just by the Avengers, but by the majority of Asgard's Court as well.

"I am very interested to see you in our training fields, Captain. I have a feeling there is a much my troops can learn from one with your abilities and experience." Odin continued, his voice serious now, and he inclined his head respectfully.

Steven sprang into salute almost instinctively, returning the nod.

"I'd be happy to, sir."

"At ease."

Steve dropped out of his stance, before blinking a few times in surprise at the ease that Odin had called the military command. Thor recovered a little form his shock, clearly still unused to the idea of his father joking around, and continued down the line.

"Allow me to introduce Nick Fury, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. He is to Midgard what Heimdall is to us, and has braved great dangers during my time on Earth, fighting off attackers on his flying fortress and aiding us with intelligence on the Chitauri during our battle."

Odin looked at the Director sharply, and to Nick's credit, the man didn't flinch, coolly returning the All-Father's piercing gaze.

"I would prefer it if you would keep your inevitable snooping to yourself, if at all possible Director; I'd much rather that any of your questions be asked of a member of my staff, instead of you trying to uncover the answers by yourself."

Nick simply shrugged.

"As long as they don't plan on feeding me misinformation, I won't."

"There is no need to worry about that occurring; I have the suspicion you'd find out sooner than later anyway."

Giving a half-smile and another shrug, Nick stepped back, allowing Thor to continue with the introductions.

"These are Agent Romanov and Agent Barton, though their codenames are Black Widow and Hawkeye. They were very capable allies during the battle; I doubt there is any archer in the Nine Realms that can outdo the Hawkeye and Black Widow has shown a mastery of battle that even the Lady Sif would respect."

Romanov gave another bow, and a smooth "Your Grace", though Barton was distinctively more uncomfortable, giving a stiff and clumsy bow of his own.

"An archer and an assassin, then?" mused Odin aloud.

John saw Romanov stiffened, but Odin waved her worries away.

"Heimdall knows and sees all, Natasha Romanov. Your past is dark and troubled, yes, but the very fact that you turned away from such a life speaks highly of your character." Odin said, for the first time not just projecting a sense of sheer power, but an immense wisdom as well.

Romanov relaxed slightly, and gave another bow, but John could still see a lingering tenseness in her posture.

Odin turned his heavy gaze towards Barton, who was desperately trying not to squirm under the ancient being's scrutiny.

"The best archer in all of the Nine Realms, you say? I think many here would enjoy trying to contest that claim. Would you care for a tournament then, Clint Barton?"

At that, Barton straightened a little, a grin forming on his face.

"A tournament? Sure! Sounds like fun. Uh, I mean, sound like fun, _sir_. My Lord."

Thor quickly moved on, ignoring Barton's stumbling and another awkward bow, and stood next to Coulson.

"Standing next to me is the Son of Coul. He is like family to the Black Widow and the Hawkeye, and has been spending every moment not recovering talking to my brother, trying to convince him to turn away from the dark path that he had begun to follow. He nearly died, trying protect Loki from being forcibly returned under Thanos' control, and Loki himself almost died trying to save him."

At that, murmurs ran through the Hall, which had begun to draw a bit of a crowd during the lengthy introductions of the Avengers. Phil didn't seem to either notice or care, instead smiling politely and giving a small bow at the King and Queen.

Frigga looked at him with fondness and gratitude, but Odin's face was severe, and he leaned forward on his enormous throne, causing the whispers to die out at once.

"You believe Loki to be worth saving, then, Phillip Coulson?"

Holding the King's steady gaze, Phil nodded, and answered in a clear, unwavering voice.

"Yes, I do."

Heading off the flood of murmurs that were about to spring up again, Odin asked his next question, his single eye narrowed as he stared sternly at the moral in front of him.

"And what makes you so certain of this?

"Because he thought I was worth saving as well, sir."

At that, Frigga couldn't help but smile, while Odin gave a satisfied nod and settled back into his throne. Thor continued with the introductions, having to raise his voice to be heard above the noise of whispers at Phil's defence of Loki.

"And this is Dr. Banner. The world fears him as the Hulk, and while his strength is truly worthy of sagas of its own, it is an unjustified fear; as Bruce Banner, he is a kind soul and one of the brightest minds I know. As the Hulk, I know him as an able companion, and I was grateful to battle at his side. I do not exaggerate when I say that the Hulk is amongst the strongest beings I have ever seen."

At this, Odin's eye widened in curiosity, examining the nervous Doctor standing at the foot of his dais, nervously wringing his hands.

"Tell me, Doctor. Must I fear a visit from your counterpart within my Hall?" Odin asked, and though his voice was stern, it wasn't accusatory or damning.

"God, I hope not. Uh, I mean, I don't think you will, your Grace. The Other Guy, well, he only shows up when I get angry or hurt. I think I'll just stay away from your training yards and I'll be fine. Uhh, I'll be fine, your Grace." Banner stammered, his many years on the run for the Army having left him somewhat nervous in front of authority figures.

Odin, however, simply stroked his beard in a thoughtful manner, before sharing a glance with his wife. Millennia of both happy and troubled marriage had left the two able to communicate without so much as a single word, and it only took a moment for Frigga to give her husband a nod.

Nodding as well, Odin turned back to address the nervous Dr. Banner.

"I think we have an amendable solution for you then, Doctor Banner; the Palace of Asgard proudly houses one of the oldest and most extensive libraries in the universe. I give you my permission to visit our collection for a long as you wish, with the only requirement that you do not stray into the Restricted Areas. There is knowledge within, that is not suited for a mortal mind. Do you agree to this?"

Everybody already knew Bruce's response before the scientist even opened his mouth.

"I get to peruse the Great Library of Asgard? Oh, thank you, thank you _so_ much!"

Bruce gave a sloppy bow, and kept on grinning like a kid in a candy store, right until Odin's next words.

"Asgard is also home to a variety of medical personnel and equipment that are considered amongst the best in the galaxy, though honesty permits me to say that there _are_ races out there who outshine even Asgard in that regard. All I ask, is that you let our healers take a look at both you and the Hulk. They may find a way to either cure you, or for you to communicate with the Hulk."

Bruce's voice was full of scepticism, even as he tried to respectfully dissuade the All-Father.

"Uhm, the Other Guy, he, uhm, he doesn't really _do_ communicating. Your Grace."

"Still, I ask that you allow my healers to examine your unique situation."

Recognizing an order when he heard one, Bruce simply bowed again, though it was clear the scientist was still uncomfortable with the command.

Thor quickly moved on, trying to disperse the tense atmosphere that had formed after Bruce's almost-refusal.

"This is Charles Xavier. He is a very powerful telepath and leader of the mutants who wish for peaceful coexistence with the humans, though not all humans or mutants share his vision. He approached an old friend and adversary, the mutant Magneto, to save Tony Stark's life, which he did. I have never met a kinder leader than this man, Father." Thor said with a big smile, though his eyes widened in horror as he realized what he had said.

Apparently Odin had heard it as well, because the King of Asgard leaned forward in his throne, pinning his son with a heavy gaze.

"So, I am _not_ a kind leader then?"

Thor stammered in response, skin turning a worrying white as blood drained from his face while he desperately tried to take back his words. After a few moments of this, Odin's expression softened, and he waved his son's muttering away.

"It is true, in a way. I am _not_ a kind ruler. However, I am a _just_ one, and your mother is kind enough for the both of us. I recognize that kindness is a quality every leader should possess, but millennia of war and strife have bled that from me, I fear. Which is why I listen to your mother as much as I do; without her kindness, Asgard would be a far drearier place. Remember that lesson well, my son, for when you rule, you must either find a way to hold on to your kindness, or find a partner that can be kind in your stead."

With the way his father looked at him, it became clear that Odin was already very much aware of his son's relationship with a certain Midgardian scientist.

Turning away from his blushing son, Odin regarded Charles with a respectful gaze, the two powerful figures recognizing each other, not really as equals, because Odin was simply far more powerful than the telepath, but at least as fellow leaders.

"Long have my people been aware of the hardships mutants face on Midgard. We are also aware of your efforts towards peaceful coexistence, even as your friend strove for dominance instead. I applaud you, and wish you the best of luck in your goal, Charles Xavier. To you, I extend the same courtesy I have extended Doctor Banner; I believe you have a friend on Midgard who would greatly enjoy reading some of our Asgardian literature."

Xavier bowed his head once more, a smile on his face.

"Thank you, Odin All-Father. I am sure that Dr. McCoy would be absolutely delighted, and I must admit that I myself am eager to explore your famous library as well."

Giving a small smile and a respectful nod, Odin turned back to Thor motioning him to continue.

"Father, this is the Lady Potts, one of the most successful women on Midgard, and makes for delightful company. Mother, I believe you and the Lady Potts will certainly take to one another; she has your bearing when it comes to affairs concerning Hearth and Home."

At that, a brief chuckle went around the Hall, while Frigga gave her son a fond and exasperated look, while Pepper simply settled for an exasperated one.

Thor moved on, placing one large hand on Tony's shoulder, his posture straight and his voice proud.

"And seated here, recovering from one of the most horrifying operations I have ever witnessed, is Tony Stark, though the world knows him as Iron Man. He is also one of the bravest people I know."

Tony, who had clearly prepared himself to pounce on any mention Thor would make to his inventions, money or Iron Man suit, was completely taken off guard. The god of Thunder continued in a completely serious tone, silencing Tony before he could interject.

"A weapons merchant before he became a hero, Tony was struck by one of his own creations and greatly wounded. Captured and under duress, he still managed to first make a device that would keep him alive, and then an armour that allowed him to escape. Both of which were decades ahead of anything Midgard could hope to offer in terms of technology. He later went even beyond this impressive feat by synthesizing the Tesseract itself, something not even Dwarves of Svartálfaheim can hope to claim!"

Thor had to shout at the end as the murmurs rose up to an enormous tide, drowning Válaskjálf in a sea of noise.

 _ **SLAM!**_

The noise immediately died down when Odin slammed the butt of Gungir on the marble floor, the noise echoing throughout the vastness of the golden Hall with an unnatural loudness.

In the enforced silence, Odin leaned forwards in his majestic throne, fixing Tony with a look that was more serious and stern than the rest of the Avengers had seen him be so far.

"You have proof of this? You have truly _created_ an Infinity Stone by yourself?" the All-Father asked, his voice soft, but brimming with restrained power, power that had slain Ymir himself, and then forged the Earth from the giant's very bones.

Looking at Thor, who gave Tony an encouraging nod, the wounded inventor rolled himself forwards to the bottom step of the dais, before the chair seemed to split apart amongst a hundred different invisible seams, red and gold plating whirling around Tony until within seconds he was covered in a noticeably thinner Iron Man suit.

It was a testament to how severe the situation was that amongst the gathered Court, there wasn't a single 'ooh!' or 'aah!', and Tony himself kept a completely serious air around him, not reacting to the public for one of the very few times in his life.

Walking up the rest of the stairs on his own power, or rather, on the power of the Iron Man suit, Tony came to a stop at a respectful distance from Odin, who rose to his feet as well. Despite the snow-white hair and the wrinkled face, the King of the Aesir still stood tall, around the same height as Tony inside his Iron Man suit, in fact.

The All-Father raised a single hand, his expression stormy.

"Come. Come closer, Anthony Stark, so I may see the proof of my son's words."

After only a split second hesitation, Tony stepped near Odin, displaying the glowing Arc Reactor in the middle of the suit's breastplate. While the device was no longer required to be inside of his chest, it still sat in the same place in all of his suits, powered by the element of his own creation.

Odin made an odd gesture with his hand, and Tony's suit was smoothly pulled away, its individual components hanging in the air like a three-dimensional blueprint, suspended by nothing more than the King's will and power.

Glowing brightly in the middle of the various floating metal parts, sat a triangular piece, smaller than the palm of John's hand, shining with a hauntingly familiar blue glow. There was a shocked silence as everybody stared at the tiny piece of artificial Tesseract.

Odin stepped closer still, one hand reaching out to touch the oddly glowing element, until Tony coughed uncomfortably.

"Uhh, your grace, sir, but I wouldn't do that if I were you. It's very volatile and it'll burn…" slowly Iron Man's raspy voice trailed off, as Odin paused to give him a flat look, one eyebrow raised in a scolding way that only monarchs and parents managed to pull off.

"Shutting up now. Your Grace." Tony mumbled, his voice still rough from the damage it had taken during his gruelling operation.

"Thank you." Odin said, his tone utterly bland, though the severity in face lightened somewhat, before he turned back to the synthesised bit of Tesseract.

Once more his hand reached out, and in a quick movement, he closed his fist around it. John half-expected the King to yelp in pain or surprise, or to see smoke rise from his hand accompanied by an ominous sizzling.

However, nothing happened, as Odin simply closed his eye, his head bowed and brow furrowed in complete concentration. Faint glimmers of light peeked through the gaps between his fingers, but the newly created element was otherwise completely hidden from view.

Slowly, Odin raised his head and opened his single eye, the iris an eerily glowing blue.

"It is genuine. You, Anthony Stark, have artificially created an Infinity Stone." The All-Father said gravely, his soft voice sounding like thunder strikes in the absolute stillness that hang oppressively in Válaskjálf.

The tidal wave of whispers and murmurs that had been barely suppressed this whole time exploded all at once, with wild accusations and speculations thrown about. John tensed as he watched the heated arguments amongst the Asgardian Court, and without having to look back, he knew most of the Avengers were doing the same.

In contrast, the Royal Family remained absolutely still, Loki and Thor staring at their father, who in turn looked Tony straight in the eye, his own still shining with a blue sheen, though the glow started to dim slightly.

Tony for his part was extremely uncomfortable, not that John would blame the man; the Iron Man suit had been one of his greatest creations, alongside actually _creating_ an element. However, Odin, with nothing more than a flick of his wrist, had completely dismantled the Iron Man suit, cobbled together as it may be, and had grabbed the highly volatile substance with his bare hands.

In less than a minute, the King of the Aesir had completely upstaged Tony in every way possible.

And now the god who had taken away all of his weapons and defence systems with a wave of his hand, was staring intently at him, apparently trying to come to a decision.

After almost five whole minutes, during which the shouting and the arguing amongst Asgard's Court had only increased, alongside John's tension, Odin appeared to have come to a decision.

 _ **SLAM!**_

Once more, Gungir brought silence to Odin's Hall with a sound loud enough that it rattled John's bones, even though the All-Father had only gently tapped the floor with his mighty spear.

"Let it be known amongst all of the Nine Realms, and beyond! A Midgardian has done what no other race, no Nova, no Dwarf, no Asgardian has ever done before! The power held within the Infinity Stones, recreated and repurposed to suit one's needs! Let it be known! Midgard has been deemed ready!"

Shocked gasps met that statement, including from Thor and Loki. Frowning, John leaned over to a flabbergasted looking God of Thunder and whispered at him from the corner of his mouth.

"Hey. What does he mean, Midgard is ready? Ready for what?"

Thor slowly turned his golden head to John, eyes wide with surprise and shock.

"It means Midgard is ready… to take its place amongst the rest of the Nine Realms."

It took a surprisingly short while for the amount of noise within Válaskjálf to die down again. Apparently, the news that Midgard was now deemed capable of dealing with the galaxy at large, and whatever good or ill that may bring, hadn't been entirely unexpected.

As Loki would later explain to the somewhat confused Avengers, it had never been a question of 'if' but 'when'. Each race that at one point or another had been visited by the mighty Celestials had left their mark upon the universe. It was no different for humanity; already, Thanos, an Eternal and thus related to humans no matter his appearance, had become one of the most feared beings in the entire galaxy.

What had surprised the Asgardians, however, had been the fact that it was one of the unchanged humans who had been the reason for Midgard's advancement, not one of the Deviants, Eternals, or even the Inhumans, an attempt from the Kree, themselves created by the Celestials as well, to recreate their own Eternals.

So no, the fact that Midgard was now regarded as an active member of the spacefaring people of the universe wasn't all that much of a shock to the Court of Asgard. They were far more hung up on the fact that apparently Infinity Stones could be _created_. They were also rather miffed that it hadn't been them that discovered this.

There had been a lot of arguments about what to do about this information; Odin had all but ordered it to be released to the universe, which some members of the Court (and most of the Avengers) worried might attract the wrong sort of attention. Odin had simply shut that argument down by claiming that Midgard already had _the_ worst sort of attention; Thanos would be coming, and compared to him, the rest of the scum and villains within the galaxy were a non-issue. Better to scare them off, rather than allow them to complicate matters for the people of Earth.

Nick had quickly arranged private meetings with both Odin and Tony, as well as dignitaries from some of the other Realms, most notably the Dwarves, who were _very_ interested in what the young Stark had created.

Nick later told John that it had been mainly focused on building alliances through trade; Tony's tech in exchange for aid on the day that Thanos would come. Through Thor, they already had the support of Asgard, and the Dwarves were quick to ally themselves as well; what Hydra had managed with the Tesseract would be child's play compared to what the Dwarves would be able to create with just the synthesized bits of the Cosmic Cube.

The other Realms and important players of the galactic stage were a lot more reluctant in agreeing to anything definite; to face Thanos was something most races considered equal to suicide, and they weren't entirely unjustified in thinking that.

The Nova Corps, an interstellar police force, had expressed a wish to aid them, but they were currently embroiled in a vicious war with the Kree, the same species responsible for the creation of the Inhumans. Though this war had lasted for generations, an end was in sight, but negotiations were tough and hostile, and certainly not helped by a young Kree radical on the warpath.

So for now, Earth was mostly on its own.

"My son, please introduce the final member of your company." Odin's voice reverberated trough Válaskjálf, putting a stop to the multitude of discussions running rampant in the silver-roofed hall.

Shaking himself from his shock, Thor walked to John, and clasped his shoulder.

"My Lords and Ladies, Mother and Father, it is my greatest pleasure to introduce to you, ASTARTES, OF THE ETERNALS!"

Once more a cacophony of noise descended on Odin's Hall, something that the All-Father was clearly getting tired off, as he immediately slammed Gungir down.

"How do you know this is truly Astartes? Well over 3,000 years ago, when he forsook his immortality thanks to a wish made to my father, Borr son of Burí, the Celestials came and took all memory of his life. How do you know that this man is the hero of the War of Night, and the Winter War? That he is the man my father, and his father before him called friend and ally?"

Thor didn't respond, he simply turned to John with a grin on his face.

"Catch."

And with a nonchalant move, Thor tossed Mjolnir at John, who grabbed it out of sheer reflex. As he hefted the mythical weapon, he could feel the eyes of every person in the Hall staring at him in shock. He shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, until he heard an amused snort from Loki.

"Well, go on. Give it a wave!" the God of Trickery said, and odd gleam in his eye.

"Uh, right."

And with that, John, feeling utterly ridiculous, held Mjolnir above his head. He focused on the feeling inside his gut, spreading to just under his sternum, and started to pull on his power. He immediately felt the mystical hammer respond, and it crackled to life with the snap of barely contained lightning.

Moving purely on instinct, John whirled it once above his head, trailing a circle of lightning, before he brought the hammer down on the floor in front of him. A blinding flash of light and a sound like the clap of thunder slammed trough Válaskjálf, ruffling the clothes from the assembled Asgardians.

There was a shocked silence as John straightened, now blushing and rubbing his neck as he stared at the deep crater in front of him. Quickly handing Mjolnir back to her rightful wielder, John coughed embarrassedly in his fist.

"Ah, sorry 'bout your floor man. I mean, your Grace."

Odin looked at him for a long moment, his face an unreadable mask, before a wistful smile appeared on his lined face, shocking many of the people there.

"Trust me Astartes, that's not the worst I have seen you do within these Halls."

John blinked in surprise.

"You remember me?"

Odin nodded and came to his feet. Slowly and regally he descended the steps of the dais, continuing to talk to John, who was looking more and more out of his depth.

"I was about Thor and Loki's age when you decided that you wished to become mortal once more. I was not yet King by that time, though it happened shortly after you lost your memories. By that time, I had taken up much of the duties of ruling from my aging father, much like Thor has done for me. Losing you hit him hard, and shortly after, he decided to retire."

John swayed on his feet at yet another shock to his system, but was surprised that Odin laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him, a nostalgic expression on his face.

"Why? Were we that close?" John asked softly.

"Aye, close as brothers, you were. You fought alongside each other in many battles, both large and small in scale. And, a King has very little friends, one of the most bitter lessons I had to learn long after it was far too late." Odin nodded, before an odd smile appeared on his face.

"You used to babysit me, you know."

At that, John's mouth fell open, along with everyone else's.

"But… but you're _old_!"

Instead of looking offended, Odin merely looked amused.

"I should be the one saying that to you; after all, you were already a decorated warrior by the time my grandfather was still a block of salt, or so the legends say." The All-father said with a grin.

John's head spun from all of the revelations that had been heaped on him. He was right; Asgardians just loved randomly sprouting of bits and pieces from his apparently immensely long past. They were going to be the death of him, immortality be damned.

"And… and Heimdall?"

At that, any levity left Odin's face, replaced by a morose one.

"It was a cruel thing, what the Celestials decreed that day. Families and friends torn apart because of their laws, children forced to watch their parents grow old and die, while they remained the same, unchanging for millennia upon millennia."

"Did… did he… check-up? On us?"

"It was the reason he agreed to his post as Watcher. Amongst his many duties was the observation of Midgard, which included you and his mother. But it is a tale that is best told in private, and I believe that you should hear it from him, rather than me."

Turning away from John, Odin looked at the assembled Vanir and Aesir, and raised his voice, easily making it carry to the far ends of his Hall.

"Let it be known! From this day forth, Heimdall shall once more take his rightful name! He shall be called Heimdall, son of Astartes the Great! Let it be known!"

Again whispers broke out, but this time it were exited whispers, the sound of gleeful gossip being spread. After the monumental announcements that had been made during the last half hour, people were looking for some more light-hearted news; the fact that one of their most respected warriors was the long lost son of one of their favourite heroes was a tale that would be told and retold in bars throughout Asgard for days on end.

Giving John one last pat on the shoulder, Odin leaned in a little closer.

"We will speak more later, Astartes. There is much to discuss, and I fear there is little time to do it in."

With that he turned away, and regally climbed the steps of the dais, once more seating himself on his golden throne, before looking back towards Thor, who was looking far more sombre than he had when he introduced John to the Court.

"You have introduced your companions to me Thor. But now we must move on to more important matters. I sent you to Midgard to apprehend both Loki and the Tesseract. I see that you have both, but Loki doesn't appear to be your prisoner. Why is that?"

Thor took a deep breath, before he took a step closer to his brother, laying a hand on his shoulder, and looked his father straight in the eye.

"I wish to contest the charges laid against my brother, Loki Odinson, for his crimes committed upon Midgard, and to review the charges for his crimes on Asgard."

A tsunami of noise fell over the Avengers as all of the Aesir and Vanir started shouting opinions, arguments and discussions. Still Thor continued on, his voice, used to shouting over even the greatest thunderstorms, easily making itself heard.

"I DEMAND A TRIAL!"

* * *

 **AN:** So Heimdall's parentage was something completely random that I didn't even plan, it just sort of, happend. However, in a way, it does makes sense; he is the only dark-skinned Asgardian we have seen so far, so even in canon he is different. Once I had made that connection, I even had a very cool backstory involving his omnicient eyes fall into my lap. As for John babysitting Odin... that just appeared on my screen suddenly, and I went with it. As for the references to Nordic mythology, I ripped those straight from wikipedia; if you spot something that's just blatantly wrong, feel free to let me know. :)

 **Fun Fact:** The shocked expression of Loki after being slammed by Hulk was created by animation director Marc Chu shaking Tom Hiddleston violently and repeatedly.


	14. The Talk

"The Talk"

* * *

John slowly walked across the sparkling Rainbow Bridge towards the point where Thor had smashed the beautiful piece of Asgardian architecture to pieces, his mind preoccupied with the conversations he had had today, and the one he was about to have. Thor's bold exclamation in Odin's Hall Válaskjálf had predictably led to a lot of shouting amongst the assembled Asgardians, most of it aimed at Loki, who merely sneered back at them. Odin, having had enough of his people thinking they could go around in his Hall shouting their heads of whenever they pleased, had roared that the Hall should be emptied; the Throne had heard and recognized Thor's claim, and a trial would be held. For now, everyone was dismissed, though the Avengers and much of Asgard's nobility had been invited for a Feast that night.

While some of the Avengers went to go rest in their rooms, and others began to explore the fantastical realm, John had made his way towards the broken Bifrost, though he was admittedly dragging his feet a little. While Mary and her refrigerator could attest that he wasn't one to shy away from a confrontation, John couldn't help but feel some apprehension, having had so many shocks to his system in a single day.

' _A son…'_ John mused to himself, as his sharp eyes managed to pick up the golden form of the Watcher of Asgard.

Shaking himself, John took a deep breath, before bending his needs and blasting of in a rush of displayed air, thankful for the durable engineering of the Asgardians that allowed their roads to not shatter every time he took off with his superhuman might.

Descending from his arc high in the sky, John landed with a booming sound on the multicolored bridge, which, though looking as if it were made of glass, didn't even shudder under the impact. As did her Guardian, who despite having his back turned to him the whole time, probably saw him coming from a mile away.

Stepping up to stand next to Heimdall, John looked at where his sons eyes were staring at, the slowly turning stars that dotted Ginnungagap, making the void appear like a black velvet blanket studded with diamonds.

John struggled with what to say, but Heimdall thankfully beat him to it, most likely having seen his father's internal struggle.

"I enjoy looking at Ginnungagap , even though I can look much further of course. The rest of the universe can become… cluttered, sometimes. But Ginnungagap is always silent, always peaceful. But not without its own dangerous power: it spawned the raging heat of Muspelheim, and the deathly cold of Nilfheim, who together birthed Ymir, the First, who took it as his home."

Seeing John blink at the flood of Norse mythology that had been dumped on him, Heimdall merely chuckled.

"Then again, legend had it that Odin's grandfather was a block of salt in that grand void, which was licked by the universe first cow, who was birthed alongside Ymir."

Turning to look at John, though he was aware that the golden eyed warrior didn't need to do so in order to see him, Heimdall chuckled, his tone one of wry amusement.

"The point being; the universe can get pretty weird. And the Asgardian's themselves can get weirder still."

John smiled at that, before both men fell silent again, looking at the ever spinning emptiness of Ginnungagap. Now however, John couldn't help but picture a primordial cow, frolicking between the revolving galaxies, chased by a block of salt wearing an eyepatch and sounding like a gruffer, older version of Odin.

Shaking his head, John turned to fully face his son, who instead merely glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Considering this was Heimdall, however, that was the equivalent of putting someone under a microscope to study what made them tick.

"I'm sorry."

Both John and Heimdall blinked in surprise at that, before the superhero pushed forwards.

"Look man… I mean… son… but, you know, I'm not very good at this kinda… stuff. You know? But, I am. Sorry, I mean, I am sorry. Figure that losing your dad for 3,000 years and having to look on as they start acting like an… like an… like…"

"Une asshole?" Heimdall asked with a horrible French accent, though his voice was filled with warm mirth.

John pressed his lips together, before letting out an explosive sigh.

"Yeah, I guess. Look, I just want to say, I realize that you've been through a lot. And this gig you got for yourself seems pretty sweet. But, well, if you ever feel like talking, or if you need something, like, not that I'm really the greatest person, but, you know…? Oh for gods sakes!" John exploded, cutting of his own rambling and rubbing a hand over his scalp.

"Alright, listen. I am really bad at this. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it. But the main thing is, is that I'm sorry. For whatever you had to go through because of me. And I can't say that we are gonna get all close and personal now, but I _swear_ , I'm going to try."

Looking up at his son (a thought that was slowly, ever so slowly, starting to sink in) John saw the Guardian of Asgard simply smiling back at him, before turning towards the broken edge of the Bifrost.

"I know. Thank you, father."

"That's _so_ weird." John chuckled, scratching his cheek.

Heimdall laughed in return, his rumbling voice rolling across the Rainbow Bridge.

"I can only assume. However, allow me to put your mind at ease. I was already a man grown when we were separated, and Odin's gift 3,000 years ago allowed me to still keep an eye on you and mother, so we were not as apart as the Celestial's had probably meant for us to be. I am renowned warrior amongst the people of Asgard now, having made a name for myself, and a home. While I'd appreciate to finally be in personal contact with you again father, there's no need for us to become, as you said; 'all close and personal'." The golden clad warrior said with an easy smile.

"Oh thank god!" John laughed, before seeing Heimdall's lifted eyebrow, causing him to back-pedal quickly.

"Not that I wouldn't like that! I just meant, you know, because, you know me being me, and you being you, and…"

Heimdall's easy laugh cut him off, the god shaking his head in amusement.

"It's all right, I understand."

John gave a released sigh, before focusing on something that Heimdall had mentioned.

"You mother, is she-?"

"Dead. Has been for thousands of years. She lived a long and happy life, and her kin gave her a beautiful funeral, so I have long since made my peace with it."

John blinked in surprise at that.

"Dead? But Mary isn't-"

"Marianne, or Mary as she goes by now, is not my mother."

"Oh…"

Once again, Heimdall appeared to be amused at John's befuddled expression.

"You are an immortal warrior-hero, literally hundreds of thousands years old. What made you think you had only one wife during that time?"

John shifted a little at that, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Ah. I just figured that I'd be, uhh, more faithful."

"Hmm, while faithfulness was not entirely the same thousands of years ago as it is now, you were a rather worthy husband compared to our kind. For all that the other Eternals turned away from the Guardians and humanity, they didn't hesitate to produce offspring with them. Every child of an Eternal is an Eternal in turn, without exception. Which meant they had a vast genetic pool to choose from, without having to worry about a diminishing of their power. This was true for you as well; you were a wandering hero, hailed as a god by many cultures. My mother was a warrior-queen of a promising tribe in the heart of Africa. You preformed heroic deeds and went on many adventures, my mother usually your companion and she grew to be your lover. Eventually you continued your travels, meeting Marianne on one of them and falling in love with her leaving my mother behind, but what neither of you knew was that she had gotten pregnant. When I, an Eternal, was born, it didn't take long for her and her people to grasp my true lineage. When I was nearly a man by my people's reckoning, I took off into the world, intending to track you down, and drag you back to us, convinced that my strength would be enough, as there was none amongst the other tribes who could challenge me in combat."

Heimdall chuckled ruefully.

"Of course, when I did track you down to what is now known as The Grand Canyon, you were not so eager to oblige a brash youth as myself, and the scars of our battle are still visible today, and attract quite a number of tourists. I learned two things that day."

At this, Heimdall turned to John, who was riveted by the story his son was telling.

"One: I learned humility. For all that you flaunt your own strength, there is _always_ someone stronger than you, somewhere out there."

"And two?"

"Two: you fight dirty."

At John's gob smacked expression Heimdall let out a loud laugh.

"It is true! Most of that little ditch was formed when we were facing off in the sky and you pretended that there was a flock of birds approaching me from behind. When I turned to look around, seeing nothing but empty air of course, you kicked me in the back, sending me crashing through the earth."

John felt himself blushing at that, before he coughed into his hand in embarrassment.

"Ah, well. Sorry 'bout that one too then."

Heimdall waved him off however.

"There is nothing to apologize for. We are Eternals; scarring the earth with our bodies like that does very little to actually harm one of our kind. At the time, my power wasn't nearly enough to truly harm you, and you were in a forgiving mood, so you responded only with similar strength. Another Eternal that had been challenged in such a manner might not have been as kind."

Silence reigned across the shining bridge, both immortals lost in their own thoughts. After a few minutes, it was broken by the soft voice of John, who held a somber look.

"Your mother. Who was she?"

At this, Heimdall smiled.

"Her name was Akosua, and she was beautiful, and strong. She cared deeply for het people, and would not hesitate to take up arms in their defense, but while she loved battle, she cared very little for war. Under her, we knew peace and prosperity. When a meteor of a rare metal fell from the sky, it was her who led our people to its location, and ordered it to be mined for construction and weapons. It was her son Bashenga, born from her later marriage to a mortal man, who alone proved worthy of Bast's blessing, and who became the first Black Panther to defend his people. His descendants rule to this day, her line still strengthened after all this time by your union with her, even if they are not of your blood. She was Akosua, the first Queen of Wakanda."

"What happened to her?"

Heimdall merely shrugged his broad shoulders, making the heavy golden plates move smoothly over one another, gleaming in the light of the Rainbow Bridge.

"What happens to all mortals eventually, if they are lucky; she died, of old age, and in her bed, surrounded by her friends and family. By that time, you had already become a Guardian, having your memories stripped of all other Eternals and what lay beyond the borders of Midgard. As it was I, an Eternal, who told you of my mother, that memory was taken as well, and you forgot about her."

"Did she… did she hate me?"

Heimdall smiled at John's hesitant question, the superhero staring at the multicolored glass underneath his feet.

"From the moment she met you she knew that an adventurer such as yourself would not make his hearth with a mortal like her, no matter how appealing. For her, it had always been a matter of 'when', not 'if' you would continue your travels. As I had already denied Bast's offer to become King of the Dead, I had to find shelter with Odin, and I couldn't be there in her final moments. But the world was a stranger place during that time, and the meteor that gave Wakanda prosperity, and affected its people was stranger still; to this day, I will swear that she looked me straight in the eyes, and smiled before passing away."

John blinked in surprise at that, before crossing his arms, and looking at his son with a warm smile.

"What more can you tell me?"

Heimdall merely answered John's smile with one of his own, before laying a hand on his father shoulder.

"Oh, so many, many wonderful things…"

And for hours and hours, the son told his father what he had seen across the entirety of the universe for the past few thousand years, as the father merely listened intently to every word, drinking in the sight and sound of the son he never though he had had, or ever would have.

And overhead the two immortal beings, as always, the sparkling void of Ginnungagap continued its eternal swirling motions.

* * *

 **AN:** Sorry this is so short, especially after such a long absence. I just felt like this was a really nice moment to end the chapter. Hopefully I can get through the entirety of the trial in the next chapter, so we can move along in the mcu timelin, but I doubt it. In case anyone didn't know; the history of the Marvel Universe is VAST! And that's not even taking into account multiple storylines, dimensions, retcons and so on. Keeping such massive amounts of information straight is more trouble than you'd think, especially since I have characters with memories going back millenia. I already had to fudge a bit (quite a lot actually) with the history of Wakanda, but I REALLY wanted to tie that in as well. While Bashenga IS canonically the first Black Panther, he lived about 10,000 years ago, instead of 3,000. Also, in this case, the Panthers get their power due to a mix of being Bast's champions and a lingering imprint of Hancock on Akosua (a canon character several generations after Bashenga), instead of munching on space-altered weed. But Bakkughan, that's not how genetics work, you silly writer you! I know, but this fic draws much of its background material from the early years of comicbooks, during which 'science' was more of a suggestion that a rule. I imagine the relationship between Hancock and Akosua as something that would fit in the pulp-tradition like the Conan books, given that Hancock and Conan lived around the same time.

 **Fun Fact:** An example of how weird Marvel comics can get when it comes to genetics/families: Shatterstar is his own grandfather. Longshot is also his own grandfather. They are each other's father and son. Figure that one out for yourself, because it makes my head hurt.


End file.
